Another Fine New York Visit

Yet another jam-packed two day trip to New York City--got to catch up with Probe & Becca, had some great meals, saw a Sondheim musical, and explored some neat chunks of the City.

Probe was visiting his mom and sister in the New York area; we agreed to meet up in the city on Friday. So he, Becca, Becca's sister Daniella, Probe's architecture school friend Terri, and I all met up for lunch, and caught up for a while.


Probe's doing well--his architecture practice is a little slow given the economy, but he is doing all right teaching on the side. 'Becca's movie is going to be released in Japan early next year. (cool--checkit, yo, trailer on YouTube).

Probe, Terri, and I went to see an exhibit at the Museum of the City of New York, written up in the Times earlier this month: Broken Glass: Photographs of the South Bronx by Ray Mortenson.  Back in the 1980's, when the Bronx was about as scary and bombed-out as it got, he went out exploring with a big box camera, and took a series of very striking black and white photos of the buildings (inside and out) and the streetscapes, with nature starting to creep back in.  The Times article has an online slideshow showing a selection of his work.


As a sculptor and photographer, Mr. Mortenson began making these Bronx trips because he was interested in the purely physical and visual characteristics of a once dense, elegant urban landscape that had come to look like excavated Pompeii or Dresden after the firebombs.

He would walk through dozens of buildings that seemed to have been abandoned overnight, with coats still hanging on closet doors and furniture still in the living rooms. But the elements had begun to creep in through the broken windows, peeling the paint and causing ceiling plaster to rain down on the floors.

Mr. Mortenson, now 64, began shooting inconspicuously, wearing a beaten-up Army jacket, with a rolled-up New York Post under his arm and a 35-millimeter camera in his pocket. But as he began to learn the neighborhoods, spending sometimes 12 hours a day there during long summer days, he started to lug around a big, boxy view camera. He would set it up on the streets or inside abandoned apartments on a tripod to make exposures sometimes lasting as long as 10 minutes.

Occasionally he ran into other human beings. Once he was surrounded by drug dealers, who demanded his film, and in the darkness of some buildings he would almost stumble over scavengers ripping out copper wiring and pipes. “You really had a heart attack when that happened,” he said, “and I’m sure those guys were having a heart attack too.”

Afterwards, we spent some time catching up over a few beers near Lincoln Center, but they had to head back to the suburbs before it got too late; they were flying out the next day.

I set up my sister's new DVD player, described previously.

I caught dinner by myself at Shun Lee--a white tablecloth Chinese place in midtown, with some really classic decor. Pretty pricy, but tasty food, and nice ambiance... it feels like it could be a movie set... perhaps the setting of an odd dream sequence.


Wandering home, I hit a movie theater at just the right time to catch a showing of Clint Eastwood's Gran Torino. I found it to be an excellent film--Eastwood has half-century long film personna that's omnipresent with his character, and the story about the Hmong people was quite interesting. For those of you who don't know, the Hmong fought for the United States in the 'secret war' in Laos, and became political refugees after the pullout. Many have ended up in Midwest cities, and many in the younger generations are notorious for forming criminal gangs. Thus, the grim line that a character delivers: "Hmong girls to to college, Hmong boys go to jail." The production team actually recruited non-actors to play major parts in this film, from the local Hmong community.


I read a few reviews, and one thing rankled me--two top reviewers (Ebert, and Berardinelli) both mis-identify the weapon shown above as a shotgun. Ugh... it's an M1 Garand rifle--one of the most famous weapons of World War II ("the greatest implement of battle ever devised," according to Patton). Yes, yes, I know... they are film critics, why do you really expect them to know that much about guns? But it felt like a data point of, "Huh... no wonder Red America thinks we're a bunch of feebs"--about the same level as calling a minivan a pickup.

The next day, I got a late start after some coffee. Previously, I had heard about Steven Sondheim's new musical, Road Show at the Public/Joseph Papp Theater. The Amazon description of this show is:

Stephen Sondheim’s first musical since his 1994 Tony Award–winner Passion, is making its highly anticipated New York premiere this season at the Public Theater. The show—with the book by John Weidman, Sondheim’s collaborator from Pacific Overtures and Assassins—has been in development for several years with productions in Chicago and Washington, DC, and grew from an idea that germinated in Sondheim’s mind some fifty years ago. The show dramatizes the real-life Mizner brothers, following their fortunes from the 1890s Alaskan gold rush to the 1920s Florida land boom: Addison as an architect and Wilson as a con man, each brother seeking his own American dream.


However, when I checked online earlier in the week, they were sold out. And the show was closing that Sunday. Dammit!

I decided to try to get rush tickets for the matinee--for those of you not familiar with the concept, you stand in line a few hours before curtain, and they sell a few available seats for $20, cash only. I got there early enough to score a seat--win!


One reason why I was really wanted to see this production (besides--duh--Sondheim) was because it reunited some of the creative team from the 2005 revival of Sweeney Todd that Perlick and I saw. The two lead characters (Wilson and Addison Mizner) were played by Michael Cerveris (Sweeney, in that production) and Alexander Gemignani (the Beadle); the show was directed by John Doyle (director of the previous Sweeney).

I'm not going to go into full-on theater review--check out the New York Times review if you're interested. My reaction though: I thoroughly enjoyed it, and would have gladly paid full price. But I sadly agree with one commenter on the review ("Great Production of Mediocre Show"):

Nothing about the piece itself is overwhelming. The script is a hodge podge series of snippets that only intermittantly and briefly allow you to connect with these two complex men. And while there are some brilliant musical flourishes throughout, even the score is mostly rote by Sondheim standards. The reason to see the show is the production. Cerveris continues to show you why he is one of the best singing actors in NY, and Gemigniani is a perfect understated and nuanced counterpart to his showy brother. The actors who play their parents are both terrific. And the production overall is sharply and fluidly directed (given the choppiness of the plot), staged and set. See it. You'll enjoy it. But you won't be overwhelmed.

My guess is that in the oeuvre, it will be classified as "minor Sondheim." But if they come out with a recording, I'd definitely buy it. And Gemigniani's performance was what drove the show--he is the most sympathetic and best-drawn character who provides an emotional core to the musical. And the set was (like in Sweeney) an integral part of the story--a "mountain" of furniture, drawers, boxes, brick-a-brack, and an old-style radio--all of which came into play. But I sympathize with the "rote" comment above--knowing Sondheim's work, there were plenty of 'licks' of "that sounds just like part of Assassins/Merrily/Sunday in the Park with George."

Huh... I guess I'm really not selling that "Bats is straight" idea here, am I? [grin]

The late afternoon was a wander around Washington Square Park and Greenwich Village, including a wander by the Jefferson Market Library (a strikingly beautiful 1870's brick former courthouse, with a four-sided clock tower).


I also did a wander through The Strand Bookstore (Hi Daniel!), which is a New York Institution that I've never managed to hit ("Eighteen miles of books!"). Wow.. what a neat place.


One reaction, though, walking through the huge stacks of books of all vintages and interests, was to become a bit depressed that there's such a huge volume of human knowledge, and I'll barely make a dent in that body in a lifetime. Then again, I can't say that I have any burning desire to read a book on the economic history of the Delaware watershed in the 1800s... (to give you the idea of the specificity of some of the books on the shelves).

The evening wrapped up with a dinner at Molyvos, a fancy white-table Greek restaurant in midtown (a block away from Carnegie Hall). I decided to have a pair of appetizers to get some variety--Sardeles Tiganites (Sauteed Sardine Fillets on Lagana Croutons with Eggplant salad) and Octapodi Skharas (Grilled Baby Octopus with Olives, Fennel, Lemon, Oregano). Both of them were fantastic--satisfying and fishy. Yum yum yum. A great way to wrap up the trip; took the train home that evening.