The Seas of Manhattan

After a Saturday packed with such random fun, you wouldn't think we'd be able to fit much more craziness into Jaime's visit.

You'd be wrong.

A few weeks before he arrived, I had agreed to take part in a chashama window project called A Moral Aquarium on 37th Street. Chashama is a wonderful organization that helps artists in a variety of ways, including offering subsidized rehearsal space, performance venues, and opportunities to enliven abandoned store fronts by putting up exhibitions or shows - window projects. The one I was involved with (created by Dillon de Give) basically turned this tiny little storefront into an aquarium, complete with paper mache coral, seaweed, sand, and every other underwater environ staple you could imagine. Performers dressed in sea-creature garb "swam" around inside the space, enacting (and sometimes reacting to) pre-recorded interviews with passerby that focused on an instance when the person had been faced with a moral dilemma.

So, not your typical Sunday in the park.

Fortunately, Jaime was totally game. My roommate, Brittany, even got in on the fun, and once we all arrived at the little spot in the fashion district, the only problem was deciding who got to be which creature. We soon discovered which ones we clicked with though; Jaime totally fit the large purple lobster get up. Brittany loved the jellyfish tendrils. And I was (unexpectedly? naturally?) drawn to the hammerhead. Then the real fun began.

Sure, there were a lot of folks who passed by without noticing. Or who pretended not to notice. But you'd be amazed at how many did pause to take a look; performance art can really make people stop in their tracks. Some laughed, some shook their heads. My favorites were the "car-gawkers" who peered out at us from their vehicles on 37th street. There was no staring shame from these folks; when you've got some distance and a car door between you and the sea-creature freaks, you feel pretty invincible. That's what made it fun though... acting, jumping around for them. Then just at the last moment, right as the light changed, we'd crack open the glass door they hadn't paid attention to and reach out to them... talk about your great facial expressions! Of course, the kids were awesome too. They whole "moral" idea behind it may have been a little over their heads, but the total joy they felt at seeing these unexpected creatures was beautiful to watch.

All in all, I'd say it was a pretty stellar NYC weekend.

A Circus Grows in Brooklyn

The other day, an elderly woman boarded the train I was riding home after a long rehearsal. I wouldn't have paid her any special attention, except that she didn't manage to grab a hold of the pole before the train lurched forward. She was thrown at least five feet, landing hard on her back. Instantaneously, the people on either side of the aisle leapt up, helped her to her feet and sat her down in one of the empty seats. They made sure she was alright, dusted off her handbag, and after she gave a reassuring smile everyone went back to their books or ipods.

That same afternoon, I was sitting at one of Schnipper's Quality Kitchen's street tables outside the New York Times building, half-reading, half-mulling over some impending decisions, when a woman approached me. "Sweetie, are you alright? You look sad," she said, obviously concerned. I assured her I was fine, that I was just thinking over some things, to which she responded,"Well, you're very pretty, too pretty to look so sad. I just know that everything's gonna be okay for you." Then she wished me good afternoon, and went on her way.

Anyone who tells you New York is only full of mean people obviously hasn't lived here.

Getting back to my November adventure: Jaime and I took our time wandering through Brooklyn, following Flatbush avenue and stopping to look at any graffiti or odd house that interested us. Eventually we stopped for some hot chocolate (and a chance to warm up/dry off) before heading to our real destination: Galapagos Art Space. This unique performance venue in DUMBO, Brooklyn (which stands for "Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass") boasts an indoor lake (with "island" tables in the middle of it) and quirky, out-there shows. We planned to see one show at 7:00 PM, then stay for their weekly "Floating Kabarette" at 10:00 PM, but we ended up getting there a bit early; they were still teching the first show. Of course, DUMBO is full of all sorts of fun little nooks and crannies, so we just ambled over across the alley to what looked like a party in a warehouse. I mean, that kind of randomness is what NYC adventures are all about right?

The warehouse actually turned out to be The Powerhouse Arena, a sort of gallery/performance space/book store hybrid, which was amazingly beautiful. And the party was actually the culmination of Page Turner: The Asian American Literary Festival. Not a bad event to stumble upon, when you consider they welcomed us right in to the free drinks, snacks, and readings from such notables as Tony-winner David Henry Hwang and Pulitzer-Prize winner Jhumpa Lahiri. I can think of worse ways to kill time.

Unfortunately, the first show at Galapagos was a bit of a wash - not near as much fun as waiting around for it was. After it finished, we decided to find some food and see if we felt up for the second round. We were pretty hungry at this point, and would have settled for just about anything. However, inexplicably, we happened to stumble upon one of the most legendary Brooklyn pizza joints, Grimaldi's. Even more inexplicable: there was no wait (sometimes, it takes upwards of an hour to get into this little pizza place). Needless to say, it was incredible. The pizza itself was classic New York, with its big, floppy slices and tons of cheese. It was only surpassed by the enormus cannoli we split afterwards (yes, somehow after downing an entire pizza, we found room for dessert too). Un-believable.

By the time we headed out for the Galapagos Floating Kabarette, we were stuffed but determined to give the venue another shot. We were glad we did; this show more than made up for the first. How to describe it? It was sort of an underground circus/burlesque show with singing, and lots of aerial acts. And free hair cuts. And remember, there's an indoor lake too.

Yeah, it was sorta wild. And lotsa awesome.

After staying way too late at the crazy show, Jaime and I slowly made our way back to Inwood (choosing to go by subway rather than foot this time, thankfully). But the adventures didn't stop there... little did Jaime know that he was going to make his theatrical debut the very next day!

Planes, Bridges, and Strange Streets

As I write this, I am gliding majestically through frigid air currents towards the welcoming embrace of Detroit. Whatever elegant picture this conjures in your mind, savor it. For at the moment I am squarely flanked by two wailing German toddlers and cramped neatly behind a rather large body builder whose seat back reclines remarkably deep into my lap and subsequently askew tray table. Seeing as a 10,000 foot drop awaits my other side, ample space to type, wiggle, or dare I suggest, breathe, is distinctly lacking. Yet, I persevere, my laptop folded in on itself into a glowing piece of origami. (Apple, I patent the iGami here and now. Eat your heart out.)

Such is the love this grandchild has for her dear, persistent Grandfather. Let it be noted.

Back to November.

After our tree nursery run-in, Jaime and I continued our adventure at a leisurely pace, making our way up Sixth Avenue towards the heart of SOHO. (Note: This far down in Manhattan, ie, at some random point indiscernible to native Ohioans, Sixth Avenue is referred to only as “Avenue of the Americas”. However, the understandable confusion that arises in those of us whose hometown’s have street names that stay put like obedient Labradors should be suppressed at all costs, lest one earns the despised moniker of “tourist”.) We stopped in at various galleries, cultivating our stoic art-appreciator gazes. Some were more interesting than others. I particularly liked one little shop that displayed bicycles trussed up by different artists; one even incorporated a fully functional tequila shot bar (bucket of limes included) that the owner swore worked perfectly in transit. But before long, we gave in to our grumbling stomachs and popped into a posh little Italian Bistro. The pasta was delightful, but both Jaime and I were swooning too much over the amazing root beer to notice. Sated, we started to make our way down to Chambers Street.

At this point, it’s probably worth mentioning the ominous gray skies that had been hanging over us for a good part of the morning. Of course, it being November, gray was the weather’s typical color of choice, so I hadn’t been overly worried. At least at the start. But as we made our way towards lower Manhattan, it became clear that any worries I was harboring should hurry up and make way for absolute, soaking certainty. Not to be outdone by a little (read: a lot of) water, Jaime and I pressed on towards our destination: The Brooklyn Bridge. I had been in the city for almost three months, but had yet to lay eyes on the modern marvel. Today, we weren’t just going to have a look either. No, we were going to walk it. Truly the best way to experience the first steel cable suspension bridge, and certainly the only way to fully appreciate it. Plus, you get a great view of Manhattan.

And so we pressed on. Despite soaked sneakers, lashing rain, and an all-encompassing fog. As wet as I was, it was actually a stunningly beautiful walk. The architecture was so unique and held so much history, and the vistas from the middle of the river made even the stormy day lovely. The 1,595.5 feet went by quickly though, and we soon found ourselves in another world entirely: Brooklyn.

More to come!

Ladders Leading to Nowhere

November turned out to be just as exciting. That Tuesday was the opening night of MTC's Nightingale, a one-woman show written and performed by Lynn Redgrave. She'd gone through a lot during the rehearsal process, and due to a medical problem she performed the play "on book" (with the script in front of her). Nevertheless, it was a lovely evening; she's such a gifted storyteller that it was enchanting just to listen. The opening night party was great as well, though it was admittedly a bit more reserved than the one for The Royal Family, being on a Tuesday instead of a Thursday. And the theatrical surprises didn't stop there! That Friday, my mom's friend Sherri was in town. An avid theater-goer herself, she invited me to come along to a show with her. We saw Carrie Fisher's Wishful Drinking at the Roundabout Theatre, which was a ton of fun. Ms. Fisher made fun of herself (and Star Wars - endlessly), but told an engaging story too. Afterward, we had some delicious dessert at an Italian eatery across the way, a perfect ending to the evening.

The next week marked the much-anticipated arrival of my good friend Jamie. Now, this is a pretty well traveled guy we're talking about here, his passport stamped in places ranging from Spain to Peru. Yet he'd never set foot in the Big Apple! Obviously, this was going to be a weekend of adventure. We started off pretty low-key though - or at least, I did. I had to work on Friday, so Jaime took in a lot of the sites on his own (things like the Empire State Building and a tour of the U. N. Building). We met up for some Thai food on 9th Avenue afterward, and he caught me up on his adventures. Then we set out for the KGB bar. This tiny little dive is a fascinating place (read the history if you have a moment) and can be somewhat difficult to find at first (it's on the second floor of a building with plenty of character). It's known for it's soviet-themed decor but mostly for it's awesome literary reading series; It boasts some sort of reading nearly every night of the week. Sadly, we made it just in time to see the crowds of the last reading leave, but we had fun soaking up the ambiance anyway. Hopefully I'll make it back sometime to check them out!

Saturday was when the real adventures began. First, we headed down to SOHO. It's a pretty wild experience going below ground in my Inwood neighborhood and reemerging in this swanky area of galleries and eateries; I'm still constantly amazed with the diversity found within this thirteen mile-long island. SOHO is always full of surprises too, as we soon found out. While Jamie and I made our way up from the Canal Street station, we noticed a fenced in lot along the Avenue of the Americas (which is actually 6th Ave, but don't call it that this far downtown or people look at you funny - not that I know this from experience or anything...). Now, that's not that unusual, even in this neck of the woods. But along the fencing there were sheets of plywood studded with hundreds and hundreds of tiny shimmering discs... and that just begged to be investigated. Upon closer inspection, we saw that in addition to the discs, there was an entrance. Turns out we had inadvertently stumbled upon LentSpace, a bizarre art project/nursery concocted by some developers who had the land but weren't sure what to do with it yet. So, until they do decide, it sits as this odd sort of urban sculpture garden (piles of rock and ladders sunk into concrete qualify as art... right?). Oh and there are baby trees strewn about too. A few parts intriguing... several parts odd... definitely New York.

To be continued!

Talking With Strangers

So, it’s 2010. I’m snowed in during a blizzard and realize my blog hasn’t been updated since… October? Alright, four months is where I draw the line (you may have been wondering where that line was exactly – now you know). I’m going to try and catch this up as efficiently as possible without sacrificing any details, so bear with me – and enjoy!


After a thoroughly soaked through Halloween parade and a late night rendezvous with friends in the village, I was eager to sleep through Sunday. My bed was cozy and warm, and a distinct chill had crept into the air, a chill that made the thought of leaving the house nightmarish at best. However, that Sunday happened to be the New York City Marathon, and I’d promised myself that I’d get to witness this awesome feat in the flesh. Somehow, I managed to get myself going (maybe the guilt in realizing that by the time I opened my eyes several thousand runners had already traversed 26 miles). I’d so glad I did.

I’d already scouted out the route during the week, so I hopped the A train with a specific spot in mind. I was headed for mile 23, a notoriously brutal part of the course that batters runners with the rolling hills of Central Park West. I figured any extra encouragement at this juncture would be much appreciated.

Instead of trying to get across town via subway (always a nightmare) I got off around the American Museum of Natural History (which I’ve yet to visit) at 81st, and decided to walk across the park itself. This was actually a strangely eerie experience. Other would-be-spectators started to appear and join in my journey, and eventually we began to resemble a sort of slow, east-west exodus, all moving silently towards the distant murmur of cheers. Or at least, we were mostly silent. I couldn't help but smile as I watched one anxious child bolt ahead from his father then wait a few hundred paces ahead until he caught up, only to start all over again. The boy seemed infinitely amused at this simple game, and shrieked with laughter every few steps. Once, as he began to sprint away, he slipped on some wet leaves and went down hard. He lay still for just a split second - a second in which the father's pulse visibly quickened - but then bounced back up again. The dad sighed as he watched the boy bound away, and I chuckled out loud. He smiled in return, and I told him I wished I had that kind of energy. By way of reply, he told me that they had to take the boy to the hospital again the night before, for breathing trouble - he was just glad he could run at all.

By the time we reached the actual course, our odd band of travelers was full of excitement, eager to join the raucous crowds cheering on the runners. I was amazed at the number of people already lining the sidelines. And they took their encouragement duties very seriously! They loved to yell “You can do it!” to those who were struggling and went wild each time they got someone to pick up the pace. There was no silent watching allowed either; you were scowled at if you weren’t cheering, and would soon be prodded to join in. That wasn’t difficult though – watching all of these amazing runners whizzing by made you want to jump in full force. A few were sporting some Halloween outfits (Winne the Pooh was my favorite) and many had written their names across their chests so people could call out personal encouragement. It was a wonderful time, inspiring and exhausting even to watch. But a great way to spend a Sunday morning.

Trick or...Parade?

It’s listed as one of the top One Hundred Things to Do Before You Die. It attracts over two million visitors each year, disrupts traffic all over town, and boasts some of the most elaborate displays of puppetry to found anywhere in the U.S.. Yes, I’m talking about none other than New York’s Village Halloween Parade, and yes, this was the adventure that Stephanie and I chose to partake in the last weekend of October.

Originally, our game plan had involved elaborate paper mache costumes that would shock and awe all those who looked upon us. Alas, work, visitors, and other New York adventures got in the way and we arrived at the 31st with nothing to show for ourselves. Resilient, we quickly assembled some costumes with old clothes and cheap eye-shadow-turned-face-paint. Stephanie ended up as a wandering gypsy woman, and I was a unicorn (with a somewhat dubious head-piece – I think I looked more like an uncoordinated rabbit that had an unfortunate run in with a poll).

Pleased with our quick thinking, we headed down to the village. As we drew nearer, more and more interesting folk appeared in the subway cars – Santa Clause and the Mario Brothers, to name a few. When we finally stepped off onto the platform, there wasn’t an un-costumed face in sight. The press of people was so thick that it took a good ten minutes to get through the turn styles and up the stairs. When we finally did emerge, the first thing I noticed was the ubiquitous police presence. Everywhere you looked there were officers, giving directions, keeping the crowd flowing, and making it clear that this was going to be a safe event.

After some wandering and crowd weaving, we eventually made it to a holding pen for parade walkers (we weren’t about to just watch this – we wanted to march!). At first, it was just fun looking at all the bizarre outfits swirling around us. There was a Satyr that looked remarkably real, and a glowing firefly too. But the pen was packed pretty tight, and despite the party vibe and thumping music coming from the float next to us, our feet were starting to feel it after a half hour of waiting. The rain sealed the deal for us – we were busting out! (And by busting out I mean saying a lot of “excuse me”, “pardon me”, “excuse me” as we squirmed through the press of people and clambered unceremoniously over the side barricades). Once we were free of the pen, it was easy to slip into the actual parade. We walked next to a zombie pirate ship for awhile, then tailed an LGBT marching band, and got stuck behind a huge group of “Thriller” dancers. All in all, it probably would have been more fun if the rain wasn’t coming down in sheets by this time. Sufficiently soaked and satisfied with the experience, we soon turned our attention to escaping the parade itself – a feat which proved even more challenging than getting in. Despite the rain, the crowd watching was between five and ten people deep, and protected by barricades. It took us a good half mile of walking before we glimpsed a weak spot and made a break for it.

Once we were free of the parade, we shuffled along bovine-like with the herds of people milling through the village. Eventually we came to a little Mexican Restaurant where we relaxed and dried off while eating super-spicy salsa. We met up with friends after that, then began the long trek home (there was a line above ground for the subway). Needless to say, there were lots of rowdy, intoxicated riders packed in with us. We found their loud antics amusing, to say the least, but we were just as excited when we found out that yes, the train would be going express. Joyous high fives all around!

Wandering the City

It's been a few weeks. It's actually been quite a full few weeks too, so I'll do my best to get this up to date. And thus, this entry goes out to my Grandpa – hopefully I won't be so negligent in my writing in the future!

Aidan's visit was relaxing. We took it easy, opting for lazy mornings over sight-seeing and movies over Broadway shows. Really, after six weeks apart, it was just nice to spend time together again. Of course, being the couple that we are, we still managed to get in our fair share of adventure. Among other things (including a fruitless SoHo cupcake search), one such adventure was our Sunday trek out to Brooklyn. The train ride was long, but the invitation from our Michigan friends (Alex and Zan) had included a homemade dinner, and a sneak peak at the new dance piece they were putting together – an irresistible combination. So when Sunday morning rolled around we got ourselves out of bed at a reasonable hour, whipped up a carrot cake, and hopped the downtown A train.

Once we finally got above ground on the other side of the river, Aidan and I found ourselves in a semi-industrial neighborhood. It’s amazing how other-worldly different neighborhoods (and boroughs) can feel in New York, especially when you remember how small the city actually is. But it was nice taking in the different sights as we made our way over to the small but impressive studio space their company was rehearsing in. We climbed the creaky stairs and settled in for the show which, to our delight, incorporated big wheels! The piece turned out to be both playful and moving, full of all the energy and unique movement of the best kinds of modern dance. You learn so much from sitting in on rehearsals as well: back story, tricky spots, differing opinions and the reasoning behind choices. It really fleshes out the experience (and almost always leaves me aching to create my own work!)

Afterwards, we helped pack the props into their car and headed over to their home in Park Slope. It was a beautiful, large, first floor apartment with a bay window – and a yard! We had a wonderfully autumnal meal of vegetarian chili with avocado (I still need to swipe the recipe) with thick carrot cake slices for dessert. And the conversation was just as good; it was so refreshing to talk to another young “artsy” couple that was making it work in the city. Every once in a while you need a reminder that yeah, even though there are rough days, you can get through them – and it’s worth it in the end.

Aidan stayed until Tuesday morning, when he boarded a terribly early flight back to Ann Arbor. But I wasn’t left without company for long. That Friday, my friend Julie arrived in Times Square ready to take on the city. Our first item on the agenda was the Broadway show “In the Heights”, winner of the 2008 Tony Award for best new musical. With a few hours to kill before curtain, I led Julie away from the bright lights and over to the sleek bars of ninth avenue. We snacked and sauntered around Hell’s Kitchen for a bit before heading over to the theater. The show was fun, full of romance, impressive dancing, and numerous references to upper Manhattan (the set looked like my street corner)!

And that was just the beginning. On Saturday, we really hit the town. After showing off the farmer’s market, headed down to the Hell’s Kitchen flea market (which was disappointingly small) and then over to Bryant Park, the New York Public Library, and the fashion district. We popped into all sorts of little boutiques, each of us succumbing to a least one fun purchase. Then later on we happened upon a street fair that we wandered through all the way to the edge of the park. Now, it wasn’t a particularly nice day out – cold, gray, with occasional spits of rain – but Central Park in the fall isn’t something to be missed. We wandered through the east side paths for a good twenty blocks, taking in the foliage, the carriages, and the harvest festival. We finally emerged around 81^st, where we quickly found a diner to soothe our grumbling stomachs. Then, it was on to the Met! Julie had never been to the enormous museum before (or the city, for that matter) so it was a lot of fun to point out the big highlights, like the Egyptian Temple and the Sculpture courtyard. However, I had never visited on a Saturday before, and the press of tourists was overwhelming at times. Nevertheless, we got in a good amount of browsing, and by the time we left, it was getting dark.

Originally, we had planned to go over to the Guggenheim (which is free Saturday evenings from 5:45-7:45pm), but it would seem that every other person in the city had the same idea; the line was around the avenue length block. Fortunately, we had our trusty Time Out with us, and were able to find a suitable alternative. Switching gears from visual to performing art, we headed down to the Public Theatre for a free staged reading of a LAByrinth play. Not without its flaws, the show was nonetheless engaging, and I’m glad that Julie’s first experience with staged readings was at such a great theatre.

On Sunday we headed up to Fort Tryon Park, strolled through the Heather Garden, and had a delicious brunch at the New Leaf Café (our “splurge” meal). Then it was off to SoHo for more gallery hopping and boutique shopping. It was a much prettier afternoon, and it was all too easy to pass the hours strolling through the gorgeous neighborhood. Eventually we made our way over to the west village as well, ending up at the Chelsea Market. I could spend days there! I love all of the eccentric little food and culinary supply shops. I must say I was impressed with my own restraint; I only ended up with some thai spices and shortbread!

We ended our whirlwind tour of the city with some karaoke at our favorite local spot, The Piper’s Kilt. It was a thoroughly fun and exhausting weekend, and I was so happy that Julie was able to make it out. Of course, the next weekend was just as packed…

To be continued!