Studio Ruthe

And a great time was had

This trip to New York was very special. In addition to many of my usual favorite things I spent much of the time with old friends whom I haven't seen for many years. Our first activity was a tour of the Tenement Museum. It was particularly interesting in light of our current immigration discussions. Amazing how each generation of Americans easily forgets parents or grandparents who made the extraordinary effort to get here, many of them undocumented, how they were harassed and maligned after they arrived, and how they contributed to the rich life we now embrace and would be better off with more of their values.

My friends are Israelis. We met them just as they came out of the Israeli army and came to Chicago to go to University of Illinois. They remained long enough to get a PhD, have two children and become highly contributing American citizens. Then they returned to Israel and I've seen them only a few times since, each being a special pleasure.

We went to the Met (and I went a second time), to the Japan Society, to the High Line, and to the most amazing play, War Horse. The play is done with puppets, although not what we usually think of as puppets. They are life size; each horse controlled by three people. When they come on stage you know they are puppets, no attempt is made at deception, but you believe deep inside they are real and you are (I was) overwhelmed by their presence. Everything in the play conveys the story. Nothing is extraneous. It is all immensely moving. I plan to see the movie when it comes out at the end of the month, but I'm sure it won't be the same.

I came back to Pittsburgh with a walnut bread from Eataly, tea from Kalustyan and a nasty cough. I never got to the book party on Sunday; decided not to spread the germs. I just finished the book and will have pictures next post. 

Farewell New York City, for the moment

I'm sitting on the train going back to Pittsburgh and wishing Shalmit was here with me again to help pass the time. Yesterday was my last full day in NY. I spent the morning tidying the apartment. I don't want to say cleaning because I didn't do much of that, except for the kitchen and bathroom. Also did a load of laundry so I could leave clean linen on the bed.

I met Mary about 2 and we took the subway down to Chinatown where she got her hair cut. It was interesting watching all the goings on in the salon. And it cost half of what I usually pay. If I got to NY more often I might consider changing hairdressers, but I'm not sure they would know what to do with curly hair.

We wandered around the area stopping to eat rice pudding in a place that sold it in about 20 different flavors. I tried several before I finally settled on almond (but no nuts in it). Visited the Museum of the Chinese in America and a shop with wine and other products from Chile; walked through Prada (amazed that they let me in) and finally went to Eataly where Mary had never been and where I wanted to return to get another walnut bread. After a long bus ride up Madison we had dinner near the apartment, of course, chattering all the way. It was a lovely day, a charming finish to my trip. 

 

Rainy Sunday

I woke up to a gray, rainy morning and thought about spending the day in bed. That got boring pretty quick so as the rain lessened I got dressed and went out, had lunch and went over to the West Side to see another documentary; this time about Sholem Aleichem--good, but not the most interesting thing I've ever seen. Too many talking heads, but I suppose there's not much else that could be done.

After the film I walked over to Whole Foods in Columbus Circle for some dinner and some nosh to bring to my next stop. Then on to the subway the GW Bridge, and New Jersey, my old stomping grounds. Ellen had a Stitch and Bitch for me so I could see many of my old friends. We did this every Sunday night for years so it was great fun to see them again.

Recovering

At least I haven't been spending so much time in restaurants. Thursday morning Mary and I went out to the botanic garden in the Bronx. The well-advertised exhibit wasn't so spectacular, but the Poet's Walk and the lily pond were spectacular. Here is a photo of someone doing a tricky bit of photography. Just imagine if the camera dropped into the water.

I don't know if the other photographer found it as amusing as I did.

We had lunch at the garden, but most of our visiting was done walking around--my doctor would approve.

Dinner was a long visit with Jean at another restaurant, but I've been sticking to salads.

Friday was a real walking day. Phyllis and I went up on the High Line. This is a real winner. The city converted an old railroad track into a long, skinny park. It's a great place: you can see into back yards, roof gardens and other usually hidden places.

Here the tracks remain, but the ties are covered with something that makes for easy walking.

The path rose above the tracks, visible below, and everything is landscaped beautifully.

This time we had a large, late lunch. After I got back to the apartment, worn out, I had a very small dinner alone. 

No dates today so I went down to Union Square by myself. I was going to go out to Brooklyn to a Saturday event called a Smorgasburg--more food--but opted instead for a street fair in the village. Bought more earrings, and a Mozzarepa for lunch; wandered through the green market in Union Square then over to Lincoln Center, hoping to get a ticket for War Horse. No luck. Looked at quilts at the folk art museum, walked over to Lee's Art Supply to check for more paper; finally got a bus and I'm vegging out at the apartment. 

I'm worried: if I can't get through three weeks in NY, how will I do six weeks in Japan next year. Maybe it's the heat.

Movable Feasts

You have to look at this picture very carefully to see why it stopped me. Look near the black shoes.

Maintaining friendships involves sitting at a table and talking and eating. The last two days have been an intense round of visits with old friends, usually sitting over coffee or something else I shouldn't have. Tuesday morning I met J in the art books at the Strand, which is so large we had to specify a section. From there, talking all the time, we went to a small Israeli restaurant where we sipped fresh squeezed orange juice until the lunchtime crowd came in and needed our seats. We went across the street to the less crowded Au Bon Pain and sat for another hour or two over coffee and soup. I usually eat, but wasn't hungry then. Finally J walked back to the Strand with me so I could continue looking at books and we said goodby.

I managed to get out with only one book and went up to meet another J, Julia, at the Whole Foods at Columbus Circle, starving by this time. Julia got a table while I bought food. We kept that one from four until six thirty, buying a little more as the spirit moved us. Finally I couldn't sit anymore and we walked over to Lincoln Center where we hung out again, until it was time for our eight o'clock concert. It was interesting to see the musicians so casually dressed for the rehearsal now looking very formal and dignified. This was an all Mozart program with the Jupiter Symphony and two choral pieces. Very nice.

Wednesday I met Sybille back at the Film Forum for another documentary; this time about Anselm Kiefer. Many years ago I was awestruck by a large Kiefer painting, Ordnung das Engels, at the Art Institute of Chicago. (It doesn't seem to be there any more.) Since then I have sought out his work wherever I could find it, but nothing had the power of that first experience. The film didn't either. Exhausted by the over long film, and hungry, we went looking for something decadent for lunch. We found Rocco's cheesecake first, but decided it was too decadent for starters so we walked across the street to Amy's Bread, where we had soup and some amazing seeded rolls. Then we went back to Rocco's for the Italian cheesecake, which is not as decadent (read cream cheese) as their American version. Of course, more talk and more coffee.

I returned to the apartment just in time to sit down for 10 minutes, then off to another restaurant to meet C and her niece: lots more talk, salad, no coffee. Two great days.

Music and art

Friday morning we went to a rehearsal at Avery Fischer Hall for the Mostly Mozart concert to be held that evening. It was really fun to see everyone dressed casually but playing this very disciplined classical music. When the conductor and the soloist, Joshua Bell, came on the stage they looked like two teenagers about to make some mischief. Of course, everyone under 60 looks like a teenager to me lately.

Being a very visual person I was   enchanted with the look of Avery Fischer Hall, particularly the pattern created by the EXIT signs. Beautiful music and I am obsessing over a black and red sign.

We met a friend for a long lunch then walked down to the Museum of Art and Design where I particularly enjoyed this exhibit. There were a couple of interesting videos and some good dioramas. Almost like dollhouses it's fun to see large things made small, although the subject matter wasn't always charming.

Today is the day

I came to New York for--an appointment with my optometrist, who helps me manage my keratoconus, a nasty eye problem that will keep me wearing contact lenses for the rest of my life, or so long as I can stand them. Mostly my problem with the lenses is the mucous or dirt my eyes produce that clouds the lenses and keeps me from seeing. I try all sorts of things to clean my eyes, but it's an uphill battle. Today,, she gave me more recommendations and instructions. All in all, a good appointment. Now, it's up to me.

This evening, before I met Renee for dinner, I found myself across the street from a Jam Paper Store, one of the places on my list. It used to be Kate's Paperie. I take it fancy papers are no longer on many people's must-have lists. I found the card stock I wanted and bought a package of 50 sheets. It was tempting to buy more, but I don't know if it will go through the printer. I forgot to mention I bought handmade paper from Nepal at the Rubin on Monday. Nice stuff, nothing extraordinary. Have to think of another book to make with it.

I spent some time at the Whitney yesterday, but except for the Lionel Feininger exhibit, not much interested me. Renee is getting ready to go to Ireland on Sunday leaving me alone here. That's both good and bad; I like her company, but I have many friends to see.

Next: New York

Didn't do much on Sunday when we got here, but making up for it since. First stop yesterday: an art supply store. I'm looking for a card stock, slightly heavier than the one I've been using but still light enough to go through the printer. Two of my scenes for the tunnel book have unsightly curves in them. I'm hoping a slightly heavier stock will fix it. Probably be better without so much humidity in the air, also. It was terrible the day I glued those together. So, still looking.

After the paper search I went over to the Rubin Museum. This is one of my favorite places, even though I resent that it was founded on profits from the healthcare biz. I looked at a nice exhibit about pilgrimages: Christian, Muslim and Buddhist; had lunch in the cafe, a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich on naan, really good; then went downstairs to see a film about Indian painting in the Ajunta caves. I seated myself and got comfortable and suddenly felt someone's hands on my shoulders. Looking up, I found my friend, Sybille--a lovely surprise.

I had not expected to come to NY until tomorrow and had told friends I wouldn't be here until the weekend. So we were both surprised. After the film we walked around looking at some of the other exhibits. Lovely day.

Today I decided to go to the Alexander McQueen exhibit at the Met. I got there at 9:30 as I thought that was when they opened. There were lines outside the museum stretching for blocks in two directions. It seems that members could have entered at 8:30, so I was an hour late, not that I wanted to get there at 8:30. Supposedly, members didn't have to stand in line. Ha! I was in line for almost about twenty minutes, finally entering the enormously crowded exhibit space. I looked at much of the show, but the truth is I'm not terribly interested in fashion and it was just too crowded. 

I walked out and into the Lila Acheson Wallace wing (she's my guardian angel), and sat in the peace and quiet of those awful, all red pictures by I forgot whom. Except for lines of people snaked around the museum waiting to get to McQueen, the other galleries were mostly empty. Went up on the roof and enjoyed the view, then toured the Japan galleries, also peaceful and quiet. The McQueen exhibit leaves on Sunday so maybe I'll go back again next week.

Russians, no Japanese, no new digs

Yesterday I went to a birthday party for my Russian friend/ESL student. It was a lovely party with many Russians, most of them US citizens, and several of us born-and-raised-here, Americans. My friend's oldest son made the first toast, the first time his mother could celebrate her birthday and Independence Day. He expressed his gratitude for the family coming here and for the opportunities they have found. These are not children. Both sons are adults who are making important contributions to American life. My friend, who has an MD and PhD could also make an important contribution, but, because of her age (70) and her language difficulties, although her English is progressing amazingly, this is unlikely. In any case, I was very impressed with the obvious appreciation for our country expressed by the Russians. I don't think this happens these days in all-American circles. This Russian family is exceptional, but I suspect we get much more than we ever give to them from most of the immigrants who come here.

I made another Birthday Book for my friend, which occupied most of my time the last few weeks. Just before the party I was told by an acquaintance that I shouldn't be collecting birthdates from the Russians. That this kind of thing was not part of their culture. It worried me for about 15 minutes, but I had received encouragement from everyone in her family and birthdates from most of the people pictured in the book. At the party everyone seemed pleased and told me it was a great idea. I don't know what to think.

Do you remember my great poster? It sits framed, on the floor leaning against the wall, because I didn't want to make another hole in the wall just before I moved. Each time I walk past it reminds me I have now pushed two major events into the next year: my Japan trip and moving out of my apartment. Japan only bothers me a little, but not moving is making me very unhappy. I will be signing a new lease, which will have an escape clause in it, but it hasn't happened yet so I keep hoping I'll find something. Sadly, nothing new has come on the market in the last three weeks.

One small consolation for all of this is I will go to New York next month and spend enough time to see all of my friends, and probably all of the museums.

Chicago continued

One of the exhibits at the History Museum was

Facing Freedom

What does freedom mean? To whom should freedom be extended? How are denied rights gained? These are some of the questions the new American history exhibition explores. Based on the central idea that the history of the United States has been shaped by conflicts over what it means to be free, this new exhibition uses images, artifacts, and interactivity to explore familiar and not-so-familiar stories from the nation’s past. From women's suffrage and the formation of unions, to Japanese internment, to a local school boycott, the exhibition highlights some of the ways Americans have struggled over the true meaning of freedom.

It's a powerful exhibit as pertinent today as its recollection of events of the past.

On Thursday we went on an Architecture Foundation tour of the Fine Arts Building, an artists' building on Michigan Avenue. I've been in the building many times, but learned all sorts of new things from the tour. I didn't know there was this beautiful courtyard on the fourth floor.

I would like to have a studio that opens into the courtyard and have tea every afternoon when the 4 o'clock low hits me.

Afterward we went to Millenium Park, the jewel of Chicago, and looked at the Lurie Garden. Chicago's motto is "city in a garden." You can really believe that here.

Friday morning I left Chicago and drove down to New Albany, Indiana, a suburb of Louisville, Kentucky, to go to Jan's opening. Here she is taking my picture. Be sure to note the wonderful banner they hung for the show.

You can read more about the show in her blog here and in the show blog here. It was a great opening and a great show. I'm very glad I went, although I hope I remember not to do two hard days of driving, back to back, again. I got back to Pittsburgh in spite of tornado warnings in Ohio and a terrible traffic backup in Kentucky.