SF MoMA

Later that day...

...we had a walk around the Latin Quarter and the 5th Arrondissement in general. It was chilly in Paris while we were there, and we had some rain to contend with part of the time, but this was a very nice afternoon. The strike was subsiding by the time we left the hotel, and we strolled up to some nice boulangeries and had some much-needed coffee. Among other things, we saw the Pantheon (from the outside)





and an outdoor market



and I insisted we take a peek at an experimental theater.



A reading at Shakespeare and Company that night tapped my inner James Joyce and the steak and wine we had at Chez Denise brought out my Hemingway and Henry Miller (though they were not the ones who graced the walls there. For whatever reason, the American who got a portrait up on their wall - at least the wall we could see from our table - was Norman Mailer. Who knew?)


At Shakes & Co., Adam Haslett and Nick Flynn read from their new books to a packed house that spilled out onto the sidewalk outside. Afterward, there was jazz in the library upstairs, but we were too tired and hungry to make that scene.

Checking In

Yes people, I'm still here. Busy as ever, keeping at least one hand on the wheel and keeping the show rolling. So, a brief recap:

Post Modern Living had its opening weekend (and is now 2/3 through its second weekend) which included the rare pleasure of my sister being able to attend the show and the opening night party. Think that has to have been the first time she has seen me on stage since, umm, high school.

The Red Sox have been struggling in a way that is odd for them for April. Many a year they have rocked the beginning of the season then let it crumble, so I'm taking the view that they are getting their sucking out of the way early on this time. Lately they have been finding ways to eke out one-run wins, often of the last-minute variety. A good skill to develop...

The dayjob plods on in its petty pace, which isn't always so petty these days. Lots going on and the stakes get ratcheted up more often than was their wont not long ago. So be it.

The television program 'Lost' (perhaps you've heard of it) is nearing its end, causing much discussion and headscratching and online research into arcane mythology. Also, we are planning an end-of-series viewing party for the finale. Make sure to let me know if you want in on that.

In the midst of all this, I find certain moments to be fascinated by discussions of equally arcane matters such as well-tempered tuning. Yes, it takes a certain amount of geekitude to get jazzed up watching an argument develop from:

...as Pythagoras discovered, intervals are also mathematical ratios. If you take an open guitar string sounding E, stop it with your finger in the middle and pluck, you get E an octave above. The octave ratio, then, is 2:1. If you stop the string in the ratio 3:2, you get a fifth higher than the open string, the note B. The other intervals have progressive ratios; 4:3 is a fourth, and so on.

to, a few paragraphs later:

What all this means in practice is that in tuning keyboards and fretted instruments, you have to screw around with the intervals in order to fit the necessary notes into an octave. In other words, as we say, you have to temper pure intervals, nudge them up or down a hair in some systematic way. Otherwise, you get chaos.

and on to:

There have been some 150 tuning systems put forth over the centuries, none of them pure. There is no perfection, only varying tastes in corruption.

continuing through:

One of those tunings was already known to the ancients: equal temperament. Here the poison is distributed equally through the system: The distance between each interval is mathematically the same, so each interval is equally in, and slightly out of, tune. Nothing is perfect; nothing is terrible. So now it's all fixed, yes? The laughter of the gods has been stilled, right? Are you kidding? You fools: The gods never lose.

And going on from there for another two pages, including musical examples of course...

In moments like these, I envision a life in which I live and work in an artistic research-and-performance laboratory where people appear who play instruments from various historical periods and bring to life these matters of microtones, and we explore their theatrical possibilities. If you know someone who is looking for help at such a facility, please let me know.

Meanwhile, Cory and I got to play host to our friends Claudia and Valter from Rome. Remember them? We took them and a couple of their friends out yesterday to see one of Emily Faulkner and Jody Sperling's Tea Dance incarnations. Our Roman friends will never acknowledge that New York espresso can stand up to comparison with Italian caffe, but we did have a lovely afternoon walking the High Line afterward.

Then it was on to the UES for me for a friend's wedding reception, then down to the East Village for the show. We crashed in the 'boken last night, as I needed to take Cory to Paramus this early morning so she could make a trek with part of her family to South Jersey for an MS walk. Now I'm enjoying some good ol' homemade coffee and telling you all about it. My Beatles phase (did you all know that I am currently going through a Beatles Phase? Well, I am.) has me on the mono master of the White Album this afternoon. I'll get some time with the Times and then head back to La MaMa for tonight's show.

And that brings us up to date on this rainy Sunday. I'll leave you with some visual stimulation courtesy of the Fab Four, and a bonus question:

Discuss visual and sonic collage elements in the Beatles eponymous 1968 "White Album" release. Extra credit: compare and contrast the dramatic results of the differences between the mono and stereo releases. Suggested starting reference points - visual: De Kooning, Rauschenberg, Rothko; audio: Cage, Ives, Wilson.

More Fun than It Looks

We went to Buffalo last weekend for a memorial service for our good friends' father. I know, that does not sound like fun. That sounds like the opposite of fun.

But as it happened, Cory and I actually had quite a bit of fun. This mostly has to do with the fact that our friends are the Funnest People in the History of Everything. Yes, that sounds like I am saying an awful lot. I realize this. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

The memorial itself was very moving, as everyone knew it would be. Lots of stories, and memories, and music. And food and drinks, natch. Great to see Molly and Chris and all the assorted people who came forth to share the day with them.

The day before, Cory and I explored Downtown Buffalo.



We had arrived on Friday night, rather late. Even though Buffalo is the 2nd biggest city in NY (albeit a pretty distant second), and even though our hotel was smack in the middle of downtown, there's not much going on there after 9 p.m. besides bars, so we just finished the Scrabble game we'd started at LaGuardia and called it a night.

Then on Saturday, we braved the cold and hit the town. And if you know Buffalo at all, you know that when I say cold, I mean cold. The guy at the front desk was friendly and pointed us in the right direction to try to find some brunch in a brunchless land. We made our way to Spot Coffee, which turned out to be great - cool people, good food, good coffee, great vibe: only too happy to give it a shoutout. After that (follow along on the map, if you please) we wound our way over to City Hall, which is a big beautiful art deco building, past the obelisk (the obelisk and City Hall Square are outlined in blue on the map. There are a lot of obelisks in Buffalo.) and some crazy film students shooting a mockumentary about Android Rights protesters (it was a very small mock protest, but cut 'em slack: the temperature was in single digits), over by the library, and to a really depressing mall that nonetheless had a cool sculpture of a life size buffalo climbing out of a much much bigger than lifesize buffalo nickel. Then, based on a flyer we'd seen in the coffee shop, we followed our freezing noses to the Western New York Book Arts Collaborative. Which was amazing!! A collective of printers, paper-makers, artists and book-makers have made great use of a couple floors of space to experiment, create and display work. There had been an opening the night before (we'd arrived to late to have attended even if we'd known about it) and there were plenty of examples on display and for sale, as well as really cool people there to show us around, and take us downstairs to the workshop where most of the magic happens. Really, really cool operation - very glad we stumbled on that flyer.

Not only were the printing co-op types good at showing us around their shop, they also gave us good info about exploring the city on foot. And on subway. There is a somewhat limited subway "system" in Buffalo (it's just one line that goes from the Harbor out to the University. Some Buffalonians call it the 'Subway to Nowhere') that we used to go out to the Allentown neighborhood because it was just too cold to walk the whole way. Anyway, it did get us from point A to point B, and then we walked over to the Hero gallery (which had been the nexus of the opening at WNYBAC the night before) and beyond that to a used book store and past some bars and music venues. We discovered that we were near the Anchor Bar, which is by unanimous account the Original Home of the World's First Buffalo Wings, so we went there too.

Now, here's where it got really cold. Turns out that we weren't quite as near to that spot as we'd been led to believe, and the last quarter mile or so was up hill (a very gentle hill, but still...) and into the wind. Holy crap it was cold. Cory turned to me at one point and said "Are you sure we're going in the right direction? I can't feel my feet. And I think this finger is going to break off." But we made it there and had some wings and some fries and a beer. How could we not?

Took the subway back to the hotel and crawled under the covers to warm up and watch part of "I Am Legend" on TV, and then met Sue & Kevin & Max for dinner. Jen showed up later on, and we had a nightcap with her before turning in. The next morning we broke fast in the hotel and all smooshed into Sue and Kevin's car (which isn't normally a clown car, but they made an exception for us that day) and went to the memorial, and you know the rest.

EXCEPT - on the way back home, we had to go to the airport extra early because Jen's flight was more than an hour before ours. But as we checked in, Cory noticed that an earlier flight to NY hadn't taken off yet, so we zipped through security as fast as we could and luckily they let us on the almost-empty plane. Such a stroke of luck! We walked through the threshold of Cory's apartment at almost exactly the moment our original plane was scheduled to be taking off. Nice coda to a nice weekend.

And, above all, for Fran: requiescat in pace.

Welcome to the Weekend After

Which started yesterday, with the day after (try to follow along, would you please?)

On said day, Black Friday, Cat, Rich and Cleo went to Macy's Santaland for a visit to old Saint Nick. Afterward, Rich had to go to work, but Cat and Cleo went to a Chinese place on 8th Avenue for lunch with Uncle Mick.



'Twas most fun - Home on 8th provided some decent, no-frills (and 'no-frills', as Cat pointed out, often equates to 'kid-friendly') food, and Lia joined us a little later.

Before C&C took the train back out to the Island we stopped in to Penn Station for a cup of coffee, which event I documented in this next chapter of my videography career.



Ok, I know - Orson Welles I'm not. Hey, I'm learning the tricks of this trade as I go along. Cleo is so damn cute though!

Then it was out to Hoboken for a mostly relaxing night (my building still smells like smoke, and it's seeping into my apartment in spite of my best efforts - I'm calling the an advocacy office on Monday to see what my options are. If there are any tenants' rights experts out there, feel free to offer suggestions too.) Watched part of the James Bond marathon, listened to some music, called Grandma and Grandpa (their phone was down on Thanksgiving), did some reading and writing and actor homework. Stayed up later than I thought I would, but in the middle of a holiday weekend, why not?

This morning I went to the gym for the first time in a while (remember that cold I got a while back?) and made a yummy breakfast: spinach, tomato and Stilton omelette; baguette with cream cheese and olives; French press coffee. Huh - had a French theme going on there without knowing about it. Listened to the radio and did some more reading and tonight I'm going to see From the House of the Dead with Annie. And tomorrow morning, Cory comes back from Colombia! Talk about things to be thankful for!

Coffee Art

In honor of a beverage that I enjoy some version of almost every day, here's a reblog to Christoph Niemann's piece in the Times from a couple days ago. It's fun, includes lots of good images, and can be digested in small doses.



Mmmmmmm... coffee...

I am not one of those people who absolutely cannot start the day without some java , but I do like to drink it. A lot. [Those of you pro-health/anti-joy people out there should know that I usually mix caffeinated and decaf to mollify the negative health effects, although sometimes that just gives me an excuse to have more.] And I am one of those people who has a grinder and four separate ways of making coffee set up in his apartment ready to go at a moment's notice:

• Ye olde coffee maker - Mr. Coffee himself, ol' reliable.
• French Press - gift to myself for my birthday, thanks to a gift card from Lauretta.
• Espresso/Cappucino maker - one of the cheapos, with a not-really-powerful-enough steamer, but it does the trick.
• Manual Drip Funnel - when done right, maybe the best of all. Yum!

So there that is. I will surely get a cup of something good to celebrate this entry.