Studio Ruthe

New York weekend

This was a weekend of contemporary art and Jewish culture, not together. On Thursday Renee and I went to Chelsea and looked at galleries for about two hours. We saw some lovely Japanese ceramics, although nothing extraordinary, an interesting exhibit of the work of Yinka Shonibare, and not much else I can remember. Our real reason for going to Chelsea was a performance at a comedy club.

Are you scratching your head wondering why we were going to a comedy club? Perhaps I should have done more head scratching before I ordered the tickets. The performance was the opening event in a festival called, "Jews and Power," written up as follows:

From Queen Esther to Jon Stewart, Jews have taken delight in skewing the powers that be. Join us for an evening of political satire, featuring standup by Jeff Kreisler ("Comedy Against Evil"), skits from New York's funniest Purim show ("The Shushan Channel"), a celebrity reading from the upcoming film "Hebrew Hammer II," songs from "Nice Jewish Girls Gone Bad" and "Good for the Jews," and much more.

I should have read it more carefully: I didn't recognize any of the names except Jon Stewart, and he wasn't part of it. We found some of it to be funny, but easily two thirds of it just didn't resonate with us. We never heard of these people. This event, and the lectures I attended today, was sponsored by Nextbook, a group that promotes Jewish culture. I'm sure the comedy event was meant to attract young people. Unfortunately, most of the audience was over 50, as was today's audience for much more serious discussions, about culture, assimilation, Israel and antisemitism, along with power, the need for it and our abdication of it. Very interesting, and much more interesting than the comedy club.

On Friday, my Jewish weekend included a movie, "Constantine's Sword," a fascinating examination of antisemitism from a Christian point of view. I highly recommend it.

Saturday, the Sabbath, which should have been a Jewish day, was another day of art. I took the train up to Pelham to visit with old friends, and we went to Yonkers to an art studio open house. My friends knew two of the artists, a husband and wife team of photographers. They had a beautiful show of photos from China.

The artist studios are in an old building that was once the Alexander Smith Carpet Co, another manufacturer long gone. In addition to the artists we visited a piano restorer and got to see how they handle the innards of a piano, and a stained glass restorer. Both of those studios were really fascinating; well worth the trip.

After dinner we went for a walk on Glen Island, a part of New York that was entirely new to me. My weekend also included visits to two different street fairs. I'll have some pictures and more to say about them when I return to Pittsburgh.

Another trip

San Francisco wasn't enough for me. I stayed home long enough to do my laundry, look at the mail and get a haircut. Yesterday morning I boarded the train for New York. It's a long trip, longer than driving, much longer than flying, assuming the flight is uneventful. The great part is that you leave and arrive in the middle of the city. I had a good book, some of the scenery is interesting and I could get up and walk around.

Renee is leaving for Spain on Saturday, so I get to stay here and watch the apartment until May 27. I've contacted most of my friends and made arrangements to see them, and I never get enough of the museums. Also, just found out there will be a show of Henry Moore sculpture at the botanic garden beginning on my birthday--a great present.

I've already been out for a walk and some shopping. One of the interesting things about New York is that things leave and new things take their place. There is now an eyebrow threading store on Second Ave. Look for that to be the next big thing--after you have your nails decorated you can go down the street and have your eyebrows threaded. In my mind, needle always goes with thread so I find the idea of threading my eyebrows disturbing, to say the least.

Thursday and Friday in SF

When I returned from the Ferry Terminal on Wednesday I walked through the Crocker Galleria and discovered Andersen Bakery, which I was familiar with from Japan.  Returning there Thursday morning I bought, for my lunch, one of the stuffed breads I enjoyed in Japan: jalapeno and cheese. Thursday is farmer's market day in the Galleria; I loved the bright red of the strawberries and tomatoes.

Back on the street I noticed a large sign: LIBRARY. I discovered the Mechanics Institute Library, organized in 1854 as a center for adult technical education. They had a show of old photographs about the history of the institute. The best part was their wonderful old building.

I boarded one of the old streetcars and went to Fisherman's Wharf. This was one of my favorite places when we lived here. It's become very touristy and crowded, but strangely, the original part with the old restaurants and the fishing boats was relatively empty. I was happy to walk around alone.

A gathering of noisy seals.

Entry to one of the piers. I think we walked here years ago.

Leaving the waterfront I started walking toward a bus to take me to Coit Tower and came upon Cost Plus Imports, another place dating back to my tenure in California. It was very exciting when we first found it--the only place selling exotic goods from around the world. There was no Pier One or Ten Thousand Villages. This was it, and I loved it. Just for nostalgia I went in and managed not to spend too much money. The woman at the check-out counter had worked there almost from the beginning; it was fun talking to her.

Finally arriving at Coit Tower I found a quiet place to sit and ate my lunch. There were lots of eucalyptus trees and I enjoyed the smell. Sometimes I don't; maybe it has to do with time of year. I walked all around the tower, then went up into it and took more pictures. The city really does have a lot of concrete.

I thought the huge bronze statue in the parking lot would be Lillie Hitchcock Coit, who donated the money to build the tower, but it turned out to be Christopher Columbus, designated, in large letters, as the discoverer of America. Lillie got short shrift on that one. I don't know what Columbus had to do with it.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to do on Friday. This was our last day. We were taking the redeye, so I had all day and no hotel to return to at 3 o'clock. None of the museums had compelling exhibits, but I finally decided to go to the de Young. I spent most of my time on a tour of carpets made in Turkmenistan. Good tour, but too much standing around. I found other kinds of entertainment at the museum.

This is some kind of fashion photo shoot. It involved lots of people. The model had 6 inch heels and must have been 7 feet tall. Note where her waistline comes. And get the crazy background. I'd love to see this in print. The entire crew, model included, came into the cafe for lunch while I was there. She had on a long shirt, tights and shoes that resembled army boots--the longest, thinnest legs I've ever seen. I left before she got her food. I was sorry afterward; I would have liked to see what she ate. The first thing she did was go outside for a smoke. This is another costume change, to be shot outdoors. I didn't hang around.

The have a lot of outdoor sculpture and a special, small garden that had these small sculptures in cages, kind of like a zoo. The gardeners were playing cards hidden behind a bush in the small garden. This is what the museum looks like--nothing like the other buildings in the park.

Finally, the sphinx guarding the entry.

I went back to the Yerba Buena Garden and stopped at icebee, a self serve frozen yogurt shop. I think I tried six different flavors, all for $2.79. Wish I had one of those here. Robin's meeting was at the Muscone Center, next to the garden. I hung out watching sea gulls drink in the fountain, then met her to go to Greens for our last dinner in San Francisco. We wanted to taste as much as possible so we shared a wilted spinach salad, fresh pea ravioli and an artichoke and portobello quiche with sides of polenta and broccoli rabe. A great finish to a good week.

Tuesday and Wednesday in SF

Tuesday morning on my way to the Asian Art Museum, I stopped at the Public Library. Loved the place. They had an exhibit of student work that gave me an idea about how to handle the tunnel book I've been mulling over for the last year. There were lots of books, lots of computers for patron use, interesting sculpture. A special room, the Chinese Center had books in both English and Chinese, many with wonderful Chinese paintings.

On to the Asian Art Museum, across the plaza. A huge exhibit of Japanese prints had just ended, much to my regret. I started to walk around the museum as they recommend in their guide, from the top down, and realized it was just like the Asian art survey course I took last summer. A tour of the Korean and Japanese areas was offered at 1 pm, and I was the only person who showed up for it. I had a lovely visit with the docent. found out lots of things about the museum and a little more about Korean and Japanese art. The most interesting thing she told me was that the museum wanted to double their space; they were easily able to show twice as many objects. I hope they succeed in their efforts while I am still able to come and see their collections.

I tried to get back to the hotel every afternoon to rest up a bit and to do my leg exercises. Then I walked up Grant Street to City Lights Bookstore. That was one of my favorite places when we lived in California. I didn't really remember it, but I loved all the books. Grant Street is all honky tonk Chinatown: lots of junk for sale. At one time it was enthralling to me; now I've seen too much. But it was a beautiful day, the entire week was beautiful. I enjoyed the walk.

Wednesday was the day: walk across the Golden Gate Bridge. This is the third major bridge I've now walked across, joining the Brooklyn Bridge and the George Washington Bridge. I think I can do one more in New York: the Manhattan Bridge. I have to find more, the requirement being the bridge has to be more than a mile long. Golden Gate is 1.7 miles, according to the tourist office. I had neglected to ask what I would find when I got to the other side. How would I return. I wanted to take the ferry from Sausalito, but the end of the bridge is not walking distance from Sausalito. Finally found out where I could get a bus, which arrived after about a 45 minute wait. I had ice cream for lunch in Sausalito, got on the ferry, saw the other side of Alcatraz and had coffee in the ferry terminal back in SF. Here is a slide show of my walk on the bridge.

Travel tales

My love affair with California began when I was 19--true puppy love. In 1953 I spent a great 3 weeks with aunts, uncles and cousins in Los Angeles. I loved the weather; I loved the sights; I loved the celebrities I almost met; I loved all the special treatment I got as a guest. That was the beginning. My honeymoon, in 1955, was a five week road trip to Las Vegas, Los Angeles, San Francisco and brief stops in other fantastic places. Again a wonderful experience. Although I loved San Francisco I found it somewhat uncomfortable; women were still wearing hats and white gloves in public. Inspired by all that love and sunshine we moved to Sunnyvale, 40 miles south of San Francisco, in 1957; slowly, as with most love affairs, reality began to set in. Sunnyvale was not San Francisco, which continued to have great appeal for me, even though I felt moderately inadequate because the hat and white glove thing was still de rigueur.  We moved back to Chicago 2 years later, and I've returned to San Francisco many times. I enjoy visiting here, but I must confess the love affair ended years ago -- only a bit of nostalgia remains.

Robin has a meeting here in May, every year. I came with her two years ago after an absence of many years. When we came to SF in the past I always felt the entire city was on an endless holiday, even people who lived and worked here. Two years ago I realized that was no longer the case. Non-tourist people here seem just as tense and stressed as they do in New York, but without the amazing energy that typifies New Yorkers. Maybe I was naive years ago, but this was before the area south of Market Street was cleaned up and gentrified, and before the homeless people were all over the tourist areas of the city, and before the cost of living was so astronomical. But enough complaining. I'm having a good time -- it's just not the same.

We flew out here late Sunday and were blown over by the hotel: talk about over-the-top decor. The first thing was this fountain with the rubber ducks.

I never took pictures of the lobby; I didn't know where to begin. This is the hallway.

One wall of our room: note the zebra stripe headboards and the bunny ear pillows.

The other three walls of the room are white, mercifully.

Down the street from the hotel and unavoidable was Farinelli Antiques and Fine Arts. I kept wondering who buys this stuff and what would you do with it.

The lions were moved inside every night. I was hoping to witness the moving procedure but was always too early or too late.

The hotel is just outside the Chinatown gate. I went into Chinatown Monday morning looking for dim sum breakfast and finally found one place just opening that advertised "all you can eat" dim sum for $5.99. The best way to have dim sum is to share with at least three other people; dishes always come with three or four pieces. This time I was able to choose just one or two of each kind, so I had a nice selection. The proprietor was very nice; kept urging me to have more. When I begged off he told me to come back and it would be free -- I obviously didn't eat enough.

I walked down Jackson toward the TransAmerica building and found TransAmerica Park, a lovely respite amid all the tall buildings.

Here are some of the buildings I particularly liked. I think SF does a fine job of integrating new with the old.

Then I went out to the Mission District. Somehow, I had gotten the impression, probably from the internet, there would be a Cinco de Mayo celebration, this being the fifth of May. No celebration, but an interesting place to walk around.

Mission Dolores is a beautiful place. I was amazed to find a Lutheran church and a synagogue on opposite corners -- a sacred intersection.

For lunch I had a Guatemalan taco from a street vendor at 16th and Mission. Good stuff: I should have had two of them. Also found a great fabric shop. Maybe people here still sew; they don't seem to in Pittsburgh.

I took 178 photos in my week in San Francisco. Be prepared for lots more to come.
 

Not too shabby

I walked across the Golden Gate Bridge today, seventeen days short of my 74th birthday. Then continued walking to a bus stop to get into Sausalito; took the ferry back to SF; had enough evergy to meet Robin and go out for dinner. Not too bad, for an old lady.

More about things we don't want to talk about

Monday the New York Times had an excellent article titled, "For the Elderly, Being Heard About Life’s End", that subject we don't want to acknowledge. You can read it here. They say all the things I want to say.

I'm in San Francisco this week; my internet access is only so-so. I'll tell you all about it when I return home on Saturday.

Photoshop fun

The Courbet self portraits I saw in New York inspired me to play with some of my photos. Strictly speaking these aren't self portraits, just manipulated pictures. I'll keep working toward more interesting things.





The backgrounds are from my photos of a scroll painting at the Metropolitan Museum.

I usually don't bother with screen savers, but recently I set my Mac to show images from my picture archives, chosen at random and severely cropped. Some of them are blurred and awful, others are amazing, sharp and clear even on my 20" monitor. (I like big; something to do with my vision,) I am impressed with what my funny, digital camera can do. I just wish I could control it better.

Soo tired

I worked on my leg exercises forty minutes this morning and then went to the fitness center to use the bike and the leg press. I've been suffering all day. My pt said if I'm not tired and sore, I'm not building muscle. I must have built lots of muscle yesterday and today.

I had other things to do, but I feel like I've been dragging myself around all day. I'm committed to building those muscles so I'll keep working on it. Maybe I'll go to bed early tonight.

Things we don't talk about

I put my foot in it, sent an email to Ronni Bennett about John McCain's age and she wrote another of her well reasoned posts about why it doesn't matter. Perhaps she is right--I know that we each age differently and have different capacities.

I know that talking about the difficulties of aging gives fodder to the makers of ageist jokes and fuels ageism. But why is it OK to talk about the changes that occur between the ages of 10 and 20, but not about between 50 and 60, or 60 and 70. Just as puberty brings changes, some good, some not so good, aging does the same.

I am not the same person I was at 50. And what may be amazing to younger people: many of those changes have been for the better. I am happier, more accepting of myself, more able to accept change (three career changes and three relocations in the last twenty years), and contrary to popular understanding, more able to take risks. Yes, I have aches and pains; when I was younger I had migraines and menstrual pains. And yes, I have had problems, but I am more able to cope with them, more in command of my life, as evidenced by those career changes and relocations.

I think it is important to talk about these things our culture deems unmentionable, such as aging and death. Acknowledging aging and talking about it openly and honestly would make much more sense than our pursuit of the the fountain of youth.