1/4/14

Just a few words to ring in the New Year/celebrate this numerically rare date.

This Holiday Season was up and down, to say the least.  To cut to the most important chase, my Grandmother died last Sunday at the age of 91.  It wasn't what you'd call unexpected, but the grief has been nonetheless profound.  At the same time, there is a lot of life there for all of us to celebrate, and as my dad put it: "By now, she'll be directing the choir up there."

That said, there was a lot to celebrate in general too.  A fantastic T-Day in the Catskills; wonderful Thanksgiving and Chanukkah celebration with Joe and Andrew in L.I.C.; great music from Lucius at Bowery Ballroom and Yo La Tengo at the Bell House (though of course those shows gave me more than a few pangs of a different kind of grief over Maxwell's and the YLT benefit shows); stunning Shaw from the Bedlam company; impressive original work (again) from the Representatives; brilliant poetic theater from Dominique Morriseau and the LAByrinth in Sunset Baby; another moving musical from the Public with Fun Home; Mark Rylance's Richard III to bookend the Twelfth Night we caught last Thanksgiving week in London.  Good movies and friends and New Year's Eve with Les & Megan in the Village.  And the warmth of the Christmas celebration in New Jersey cut through both my and Cory's colds.  (Well, kind of.  We're still struggling to shake those off a week and a half later...)

Speaking of London I haven't even gotten into this year's (well, last year's, at this point) trip!

So, just a little on that now - a few shots from early in the trip, and one from the end of it.

The Saturday after we arrived, we took a walk over Tower Bridge to visit the Maltby Street Market, where we enjoyed, among other things, some food and libation.

Little Bird gin bloody mary.

And on the last day of the trip, we took a trip to the National Portrait Gallery.  Here's a shot Cory snapped of me and my rally beard with a picture of Will Ferrell.

Miss you, Grandma.

Night Off

It's thunderous in Nuevo York. We just watched a viddy (Dream of Life) on our only night off this week, and now the thunder is raising a ruckus. We have to clean up from dinner before we crash - very good simple meal: brown rice pasta with red sauce with lots of garlic, onion and mushroom, green salad with mushrooms and kalamata olives, a surprisingly excellent sourdough, and some predictably excellent cheeses to round it out. Oh, and some a Wisconsin beer I've never had before called Eastside (don't know why, but it's kind of hard to get non-mass-produced Wisconsin beer out here). I also got us a bottle of acqua minerale because I've been thinking about Rome, in part because our Roman friends are coming to NYC in a couple days.

Anyway, it's good to have a night off sometimes. Rain will turn up as we sleep.

Some Kind of Sunday

Ok.

I have my Packers t-shirt.

I have my GO PACK GO sign.

I have all the fixings for a big vat of chili.

My friend (from Green Bay, no less) who is hosting the party is putting together a big spread of Wisconsin cheeses to make grilled cheese sandwiches.

There will be beer.

One of my best friends who is doing very well in acting is THERE in Dallas playing in a 'celebrity' flag football game and gets to go to The Game too.

That is all. Carry on.

Oh wait, one more thing:

Go Pack GO!!!!

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.

Birthday at Blue Hill at Stone Barns

Much to share. Not much time. SO - I'll put together bit by bit as I can, and post it when it's some kind of finished.

Last weekend was Cory's birthday. Which is, of course, one of the most festive occasions of the year. How fun that it coincided, this year, with Passover and Easter. AND the Final Four!

So we did all kinds of things, the grandest of which had to have been our trip to Blue Hill at Stone Barns. Which was, in a word, amazing.



I'll start with a shot of my three lovely companions. Yes, I felt pretty lucky to be traveling in that company. Someone mentioned that this shot has a sort of Sex in the City vibe. Or maybe Sex in the Country is more apt, since we were on a farm, after all.

The restaurant is set up on the grounds of the Stone Barns Center for Food and Agriculture, and Dan and David Barber grew up near the original Blue Hill farm in the Berkshires. The intent is to provide astounding food, expertly prepared from natural/organic ingredients and served in a beautiful setting by people who know how to take care of you. And that's what we got.

First we took a walk around the farm, which operates year-round, partly thanks to a vast greenhouse which provides yields throughout the year. This shot is a little still-life from within that greenhouse.




And here is a shot of some of the denizens of the pig barn.



And one of the chickens who was strutting her stuff. This barn had egg-laying hens; the barn with the roasters wasn't open when we were there.



Nice profile of the lovely Miss Kim.



The light in the back blows out this shot, but who doesn't like a sheepdog and his sheep?

Now this photo does not do justice to this sow. The hugheness of that animal just does not translate. We saw a number of these hogs on our walk through the woods.

Kristin and Kim laughing beatifically.

When we finished our walk we stopped by the gift shop and made our way to the restaurant, which, as promised is a (beautifully) refurbished barn.

I have been insanely busy with the show I'm working on (opens next weekend, ladies and gentlemen) so I don't have it in me to write the food porn that this meal deserves, but I'll paint some broad strokes.

We were met by the hosting team, who showed us into a spacious, airy room, where we were attended by a crew of the best servers I've had the pleasure of experiencing. As far as we could tell, every single one of them had seed-to-plate knowledge of the food, and took their jobs very seriously without being overserious in their attitudes. In addition to the general knowlege, flashes of true expertise came through as well - for instance, the Captain was a trained somelier; he isn't the somelier of Blue Hill, but his knowledge is such that he handled general and specific questions in a way that someone who isn't a real oenophile (like, say, me) knew what he was in for, and was better able to appreciate it as a result. Across the board, the service was very formal and precise, but without any touch of the pretension or snobbery that can sometimes take an otherwise excellent meal to a place that's less comfortable than it wants to be. On the contrary, everything that happened while we were there seemed designed to increase our comfort level, from the space, to the pace, to the seasonal cocktails, to the knowledge and demeanor of the waitstaff, to the wine, to the food.

To the food:

Omigod omigod it was good. Everything local, everything fresh, everything amazingly delicious.

I'm not going to break it down course by course (there were many courses), but believe me, this was a meal I'll remember for a long long time. Rather than present a traditional menu, they give you a list (updated daily) of dozens (hundreds?) of ingredients and then follow up with a series of questions - about preferences, allergies, sensitivities: the Captain knows what to ask and how to ask it, and having done so, works with the kitchen to bring dish after dish of just what you want, whether you knew you wanted it or not.

When we mentioned to the waiter during one of Cory's trip to the ladies' room (this meal took well over 4 hours, without dragging for a second) that we'd like a candle placed in her dessert to celebrate her birthday, he looked at us with patient tolerance and explained that of course he'd heard us wishing her happy birthday and everything was taken care of. As it had been taken care of all along.

Kim grabbed this shot of the candle moment. It's a train wreck by real photographic standards, I suppose, but I really like it.

So there that is, at long last. More birthday fun to come...

Home Cookin'

Different kind of visual stimulation today.

That would be the gluten-free pizza I made last night, as shot by my less-than-ideal cell phone camera. 'Twas a fine creation, if I may say so: garbanzo and brown rice flour crust, yummy garlic-and-onion-rich sauce, mushrooms, kalamata olives, red peppers, anchovies, and first-rate fresh mozzerella.

But the real reason it is photogenic (other than that I was feeling extra-special visual artistic having seen Red and The Jackie Look this weekend) is that butcher block beneath the pie.

Since I've been spending more time at her place and in her kitchen, Cory and I have taken to making it over in some pretty bitchin ways: the pots and pans, the peg board, the coffee renaissance. And now this: Cory moved the gear that had been on her cube/modules, we took the measurements, did some extensive comparison shopping and finally Cory had a wood shop in Ohio cut us this fine piece of maple to the exact specs we needed for a fab work space in our ever-evolving food lab. The pie you see before you was the first (relatively) major test for the butcher block, and it handled it like a champ. That bottle of rioja went very nicely with the feast, I might add. And while Cory thinks that the power outlet there compromises the photo, I'd like to point out that it came in very handy indeed when I was mixing the dough.

All hail stylish functional New York Kitchens!

Winter Weekend - the Continuing Adventures of Marguerite

When last we saw our noble heroine she was facing the elements in her new do, pimped out in every sense of the word by Dustin.


Here she is seen from the house above.

The gals made her a name plate while there was a walk further out onto the lake (you knew that all this was taking place on a frozen lake, right?)


Her nickname was made official by twigs in the snow.

Some images from the lake walk:


Snowmobile tracks.


Shadows of our crew.


Finished creating his woman of the night, Dustin worked on inscribing his own name in the snow in a poignant moment melding the permanent and the fleeting.




The sun sinking on our endeavors.

There was more sledding; Aaron whipped Shannon around on a little snow saucer, to universal delight.


The light caught Lora nicely as we got ready to go upstairs.


But Jacquie had a pensive moment as we left Margie to her own devices...

We went up to the house and had an evening of fun and frolic. We played a game called Ex Libris (which, beside being fun, provided the opportunity for that first photo I posted here last week.) We played a couple games of Celebrity, which was a new experience for Lora. Won her over, as it wins over pretty much everyone. We had a delicious meal of grilled tuna steak and tilapia, couscous and salad. We used the phrase "That's what she said!" a ridiculous number of times. We finished the bottle of Jameson and did a good job on the wine and beer too.

Before going to bed, I went out to the porch and saw Margie, alone in the darkness after whatever she'd been through that evening.



Was Jacquie right to have been concerned earlier? Had Dustin thrown our Marguerite to the wolves, while we amused ourselves inside? Had we failed in the responsibility creators should have for that which they create?

These questions were between Margie and the moon. We ended the night keeping those thoughts at bay, rolling out the cot and sinking into the sofa. The next morning we made coffee and Lora made french toast and we played a tie-breaking round of Celebrity. Marguerite made it into the game as a celebrity name. Was that enough? Had she transcended her tawdry beginnings? Had we redeemed ourselves in her eyes and the eyes of the world?



The last shot of tequila was sacrificed to the gods.

Winter Weekend - the Legend of Marguerite, part one.

Ok, very late entry, but a while ago I went out to the Delaware Water Gap for a short weekend-o-fun with Aaron and Shannon. Jacquie and I drove out Saturday morning - nice to have such lovely company! - and I came back on Sunday afternoon in time to make dinner with my sister. In between those drives were a lot of great food, plenty of drink, games of various shapes and sizes, and some good old winter frolicking.

So without further ado, here's the visual representation of the occasion.

First, portraits of our hosts:


Aaron


and Shannon

Dustin and Lora had been there since the night before, with a couple other guests who left before we arrived. So Jacquie and I had a period of acclimation before the serious merry-making began. Aaron regaled us with tales of the strange and wonderful as we had a chili lunch.

Then we went outside for fun in the snow. There is a hill beside the house that we used as a tricky-to-navigate but not too perilous sled run. Don't have any shots of that as I was too busy trying to steer various sleds around trees, bushes, posts and water mains to take photos.

Then the creative forces took over, and it was decided that a snowman must be created.


'Twas a group effort, naturally.

It was soon decided that our creation was to be a snowwoman rather than snowman.

Dustin took it upon himself to fashion the gender characteristics:

He presented himself as a self-styled breast-whisperer, but I suspect he had more insidious plans in mind...


And while Dustin was snowboob obsessed, Lora worked on other body parts.


She started to take on a life of her own early on.


Finishing the hat.


Taking shape.


Shannon's artistry was essential. Note the pasties - Dustin was not alone in the cause of tarting her up.


We recognized that her arms were a little outsized, and Jacquie took on the job of performing the needed surgery.



I leave it to you to interpret the nature of the closeness Aaron was going for.

At this point, there was some general discussion of the direction this gal was going in. Was she on the path to degradation? Could she attain glory? And what about that hat?

Some more snowcrafting took place, and for a while we were in the realm of the fantastic. Jacquie gave up her scarf, extravagent ears blossomed, and there was even the appearance of a horn:


I think it was Lora who exclaimed: "She's a Vulcan Unicorn!" But Shannon put an end to that with a quick "Duh... There's no such thing."

In the end, Dustin had his way and sexualized glamor won out. He and Jacquie conspired to create the perfect coif and celebrate a triumphant debut for our newly sprung snow nymph, whose name turned out to be Marguerite, or Margie for short.


Making magic.


Ready to take on the world.

That's it for now. Tune in tomorrow for more on this fab weekend, and the continued Tales of Margie...

Drinking 101

I had never heard of this Chris Onstad individual, but this comic is right on.

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.

Holiday Fun

As promised!

Let's start off with yesterday evening. I was on my own for logistical reasons, but I tried to make the most of it. First, I walked past Bryant Park to see the people skating there under the tree.


As you can see, I didn't have my good camera with me yesterday, so these shots won't be my finest work. But I do love that Holiday-in-the-City energy.

Then I went to the farmers' market on 9th Ave. and got some provisions. Made a pretty good pasta and a spinach salad, and opened a bottle of vino for the occasion.

My sister was having something of a rough time last night (if you're reading this - I'm here for you, sis. Always.) so I talked to her for a while. And I wrapped some presents while I watched part of a Charlie Brown special that I'd never heard of from 2003 (?!?!) called I Want a Dog for Christmas, Charlie Brown (seriously, who knew? Rerun gets fired from kindergarten for sexual harassment. I'm not even kidding.) and part of The San Francisco Ballet's Nutcracker on TV. And I dug up some of the old Christmas tapes to accompany the task as well.

That's right. Tapes.




This morning I went to the post office to pick up the present that Grandma and Grandpa sent me. Don't know what it is yet, as she asked that I not open it until Christmas (so that's what's going to happen gol' darnit!)

Then, at work I finished up the birthday present I put together for Grandpa and put it in the mail - it's his birthday today! I know he's not reading this, but say it with me: Happy Birthday, Grandpa! As he approached 92, he shared with us all that he has a formerly closeted fondness for "that long hair violin music" (the "long hair" variety being the arty kind that happens in orchestras, as opposed to the fiddle kind that happens in the backyard jamboree accompanied by banjo, accordion and/or washboard percussion.) I had to put together a collection for the event. (And yes, I know he'll get his present late. I'll call him tonight to wish him a timely Happy Birthday.)



'Tis the Season for fun tasks!

*Oh, and if I'm reading my dashboard right, this is Love Minus Zero's 400th post. So, there's that.