On the water

A twilight trip around Manhattan via ferry ...  enthralling, and even long-term New Yorkers on the boat were moved by the sight of this great city in the evening light.

Spring, finally.

Spring has finally arrived in New York in full force.  It teased us for quite awhile, with promising afternoons followed by days of rain or cold.  The new season has gathered momentum now, with flowers, musicians, artists and other delights venturing out into the sunshine.  It's a beautiful time to be here.

From the Brooklyn Botanical Garden:

Lovely art on the street:

A sense of humor returning underground:

Music everywhere:

Setting sail in Central Park and lifting spirits of all who see them:

A wonderful prelude to summer...

Snowtropolis

Winter has tested even the most hardened New Yorker this year.  Yet few can deny the beauty of the early moments when the snow has settled and still maintains its white splendor.  I was just one of many this morning with a smile on my face and a camera in hand.

In the footsteps of Madeleine L'Engle

I walked past a silver-haired woman this week, and she looked very much like my favorite author, Madeleine L'Engle.  Madeleine passed away four years ago after a grand and long life, but her work and spirit live on in many people's hearts, including my own.

I was first introduced to her books through A Wrinkle In Time, a novel for young adults.  I must have been 10 years old or so.  I liked it, but didn't immediately become hooked.  The title that truly enthralled me was A Ring of Endless Light, one of a series about the Austin Family.  I became obsessed, and read every L'Engle title I could get my hands on, including the ones intended for adults.  I loved her heroines, all of whom were smart and principled and from strong families and a little outside the 'popular' circle.  Her writing had a profound influence on me, and fostered my confidence that I could also be outside the popular circle and still be okay.  Apart from my parents and extended family, L'Engle had more influence on how I viewed the world than any other individual.

When I saw the silver-haired woman, I remembered that L'Engle had lived in New York City, with a second home, a farmhouse, in Connecticut.  The Connecticut home sounded idyllic to me, and I had never understood why she would also be so attached to NYC.  I understand now, of course, and decided I would track down her NYC home and wander around her neighborhood.  With a little luck, I found her old address:

It is a nice but not overly fancy building on the Upper West Side.  There's a sweet and tiny park just north of her street:

Today they were filming a movie just adjacent to the park:

I had done some research on the neighborhood before traveling there, and decided to stop at the Nicholas Roerich Museum, located in a townhouse on West 107th.  Nicholas Roerich was a Russian artist who lived from 1874-1947.  I am ashamed to say that I had never heard of him, and had never seen images of his art.  I immediately fell in love with his paintings, and came away incredibly impressed with his life story (he spent time in India, the Himalayas) and accomplishments. He was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize.  For more, see:
Nicholas Roerich Museum and Wiki entry for Nicholas Roerich

There weren't more than 10 people in the museum when I was there.  It's open every day except Monday from 2-5pm.  If you are in NYC and looking to do something that is unique and inspiring, I highly recommend a visit.  Here are a few photos (taken with permission):

I *love* stumbling across things that are totally new to me.  Had I just seen this one museum, I would have felt utterly satisfied.  But wait, there's more...

Madeleine wrote often about the nearby St John The Divine Cathedral, where she was a volunteer librarian and writer-in residence.  I walked north to find it.  It's enormous-- here is the facade:

It's so freaking big I couldn't back up enough to get the whole thing.  Apparently the ceilings are so high that the Statue of Liberty could fit comforably inside.  Really.
I arrived just before 4pm, serendipitous timing as Evensong was about to start.  A choir from St. Andrews in London was the featured guest.  I sat in one of the available seats in the choir stalls, and immediately regretted it.  It was unbearably hot, so much so that I had to concentrate on my breathing so as to not faint.  My discomfort vanished the moment I heard gorgeous voices, floating through the air.  I couldn't see the choir-- they were out of sight in the ambulatory, opening the service with their sound but not their visual presence.  It was electrifying.  I thought of the countless times that Madeleine L'Engle had attended such a service and the solace she found in this magnificent place, and felt blessed to be there in her memory 

Sunday is for Art

My mom and I had a banner weekend.  Saturday was full of art and park; Sunday continued the visual feast.

First stop: B&H Photo.  Oh my.  My mother is a skilled photographer; I, well, less so.  Neither of us had been to B&H before, though she had ordered from them plenty of times from a safe distance in Minnesota.   Both of us were blown away the minute we stepped into the store.  When they call themselves The Professional's Source, they are not exaggerating.  There is an incredible array of merchandise.  I have never seen a retail shop run with such ruthless efficiency (look up when you walk in.... there's a 'train track' system installed to whiz your purchase from order to pick up.  You just have to experience it to understand it) and genuinely kind and helpful service.  Plus, they had candy dishes and served free pretzels and juice.  What's not to like?  Just don't try to go there on a Saturday (closed!)...come to think of it, it's best to call or check the website before visiting.  The store is owned and primarily staffed by Hasidic(?) Jews, and they close the store in observance all the holidays. 

On a photography high, our next visit was to the Museum of Modern Art and its Henri Cartier-Bresson exhibition.  I was familiar with some of his photos, but not of his importance to photojournalism and modern photography.  The show was incredibly inspiring.  See many of his photos on the Magnum website: Henri Cartier-Bresson: Magnum Photos

It is of course impossible to just see one section of MoMA without getting drawn into the other breathtaking exhibits.   One was breathtaking for its sheer strangeness: The performance artist Marina Abramović was featured, in person. 

You see the two people down there, sitting and staring at each other?  One chair holds Abramović, who sits there every day, all day, throughout the exhibit (March 14- May 31).  The other chair is for any observer who wants to become a participant.  For the entire time we were there, a petite Asian woman sat in the chair, as still as a statue and as still as the statuesque and regal Marina.  Only blinks could be observed.  If they dashed to the restroom, it was during one of my own blinks.

Another gallery held other works by Abramović.  Most could be described as raw. Some were video, others photographs, still others installations that featured live human beings.  One notable one included two naked women facing each other.  To pass into the adjacent room, museum-goers needed to pass between the two women.  Who were really not standing all that far apart.  I noticed a few men going by twice.  Another room had just one installation: a woman attached to a wall, arms in a cross, body without clothes.  The most disturbing piece was a pile of bones, and a photograph of the artist sitting amongst them while they were still caked with flesh and blood.  She was born in Yugoslavia, and one of her previous live exhibitions featured her washing the mound of animal parts, one by one, cleaning them.  It was in reaction to the Bosnian war and its brutality.

All right.  That was pretty heavy.  On to the fun stuff.  I normally don't believe in taking photos at a museum, but since y'all weren't with me, and may not get to MoMA, I though you might like a peek.  Plus, Giacometti is beckoning you...

He wants you immersed in color:

and boldness:

and fun:

and Warhol:

and to see a Lichtenstein for yourself and not on a greeting card:

and sheer gorgeousness:

There was the obligatory "hey, I could have done that!" piece:

and a simple light display that looked even cooler (in my humble opinion) in my photo:

As you can see, a magnificent museum.  We rested in the courtyard before heading home.  A lovely day.