NYC Scene: Fukushima Autoradiography

Shimpei Takeda, Trace, #16, Lake Hayama

The selection of works currently on display at the International Center of Photography (ICP; 6th Ave. and 43 St., pay what you wish on Friday 5-8 pm) makes you wonder whether these works have been created during a doodling class at the nearest daycare. The walls of ICP are plastered with images that betray startling lack of talent, substance, and skill. How these authors managed to display their works at ICP is puzzling.

The only exceptions to this unfortunate rule are contributed by the Japanese authors Sohei Nishino and Shimpei Takeda. Sohei Nishino creates gorgeous and mind-boggling "diorama maps" of large cities from a mosaic of black-and-white photos that he takes at a multitude of different locations in each city. His maps follow artistic and visual traditions of the medieval paintings and icons, in which the rules of perspective were dictated by the logic and importance of places and events and their interrelations. From afar, Nishino's maps look like Boschian landscapes and up close they resemble gigantic jigsaw puzzles or scrapbooks; they can be viewed briefly or contemplated and examined at length, depending on the viewer's attention span and level of interest.

Shimpei Takeda deserves an honorable mention for his project titled Trace - cameraless records of radioactive contamination. Trace is a series of "autoradiographs" of radioactive soil from the area around the Fukushima nuclear power plant, which was damaged as a result of the earthquake and tsunami in 2011. In the following year, Takeda, who was born in Sukagawa, about 40 miles from Fukushima, collected soil samples at various locations around the power plant. He then placed these samples onto sheets of photosensitive film (Ilford HP5 Plus) and exposed the film over a period of one month. The process is explained on Takeda's website and is very similar to the autoradiography method used in biomedical research to study the distribution of radioactive tracers in ex vivo tissue samples. The level of radiation at Lake Hayama (image above) is given as 1.8 µSv/h in air and 6.4 µSv/h in the soil, which means that Lake Hayama is not a place to linger. It is the most contaminated place in the collection, followed by Nihonmatsu Castle (1.9 µSv/h in air, 4.3 µSv/h in soil) and Asako Kuni-tsuko shrine (air, 1.2 µSv/h; soil, 3.8 µSv/h). The remaining sites have considerably lower dose rates. Several Trace prints are now displayed at ICP, but their impact is diminished in comparison to the impression created by the entire collection on the author's site.

I used to tell my colleagues that they ought to print their beautiful immunofluorescence images and sell them as art, but now it appears that autoradiography images can also become art. Notably, Takeda successfully financed his project through kickstarter and sold limited edition gelatin prints of the works from the Trace series.

Update 01.03.2015: See a more recent post, Fukushima Shoes, about a high concept design created by Sputniko! and Masaya Kushino to draw attention to the consequences of the Fukushima nuclear disaster.

NYC Scene: Another 2nd Avenue Cross

Epiphany Church, New York. Photo: LB

Epic leak from higher source:

Conquer Evil with the Force!

Aim above the red brick wall,

Toss One Ring to Rule Them All!

Here is another oft-seen, yet never consciously registered place on Second Avenue that I have discovered lately. The Roman Catholic Epiphany Church in Gramercy (239 East 21^st Street), a Modernist creation by Belfatto & Pavarini constructed in 1965-67, looks appealing in bright light, but at dusk its windowless façade stirs up thoughts of Mount Doom and Red Square. The original Church of the Epiphany of Our Lord was founded in 1868 on the site of Rose Hill, the mansion of Horatio Gates, the Revolutionary War hero and the victor in the Battle of Saratoga. This rather grand church with a single tower was designed by Napoleon LeBrun, who designed several other churches in New York and Philadelphia. In 1963 the church was destroyed by a gigantic fire. Four years later the new building on the same spot was dedicated by the powerful and controversial Cardinal Spellman. 

Epiphany Church, 2nd Ave façade
stained glass above the entrance

The Epiphany Peace Garden nearby is dedicated to the neighborhood people who died in 9/11 attacks. A plaque on the fence honors Tadeusz Kosciuszko, another hero of the American Revolutionary War and the leader of the 1794 Uprising in Poland. In America, Kosciuszko distinguished himself as a military engineer who constructed, among others, the fortifications at West Point. Kosciuszko participated in the Battle of Saratoga and served under Gates’ command, and a plaque commemorating his visit to Gates’ Rose Hill estate in 1797 was installed on the fence of the Epiphany garden. This plaque reads: 

Estate of General Horatio Gates (1728-1806) Victor of the Battle of Saratoga 1777

Major General Tadeusz Kosciuszko (1746–1817)

Colonel of Engineers in the Continental Army (1776–1784) – designer of the fortifications at West Point, veteran of the Northern and the Southern campaigns – the patriot of two continents stayed here 10–29 September 1797 – to visit his former commander – to renew friendships forged in the struggle for American liberty – & to mourn the passing of comrades-in-arms. He received here the sympathy & well-wishes of New Yorkers for his daring & gallantry in leading the Polish Insurrection of 1794 against overwhelming invading forces. He is as pure a son of liberty as I have ever known, and of that liberty which is to go to all, and not to the few and rich alone. Thomas Jefferson to Gates 1798.

Erected 1997

Epiphany Parish * Knights of Lithuania * Kosciuszko Foundation * Pilsudski Institute * Polish-American Congress * Sons of the Revolution NYS 

Plaque commemorating
Kosciuszko's visit to Rose Hill in 1797

For the New York drivers, the Kosciuszko Bridge, first opened in 1939 and now doomed for demolition and replacement, is a frequent source of frustration as a bottleneck between Brooklyn and Queens. However, another Kosciusko Twin Bridge (on the way upstate a "z" got lost), over the Mohawk River near Albany and Saratoga, in my personal geography leads to happier places - to the Gore Mountain in the Adirondacks.

Photos: LB 2013

NYC Scene: Climbing the Walls

24 Bond Street, New York

Golden dancers by Bruce Williams (1998)

People climbing up the wall

Wearing naught but coat of gold:

These days NoHo prices sting,

Choose between your pants and bling!

I must have passed by this building on Bond Street (24 Bond Street, between Lafayette and Bowery) dozens of times before, but never paid attention to it until recently an out-of-town guest pointed it out while we were walking up Lafayette Street. With a fresh eye, my guest has spotted these golden figures on the wall of an old house, "dancing ivy", as one blog called them. 

A brief search revealed that the gold figures on the outside of the building were created by Bruce Williams in 1998 and had to be approved post factum (and not without resistance) by the NYC Landmarks Preservation Commission in 2008, when NoHo Historic District was expanded and absorbed Bond Street. It appears that the figures were installed in two batches: the first group perched in front of the second story window followed by the second group that climbs higher up the wall on the left side, which was added around 2010. The authors’ sketches suggest his ambition to extend the dancing troupe all the way to the roof. Note that not all of these agile creatures are human, a few are well endowed and put their assets to good, if naughty use.

The Landmarks Preservation Commission Report (which contains interesting historical information and numerous photos) describes 24 Bond Street as a store-and-loft building constructed in 1893 by Buchman & Deisler, the architectural firm that also created Nos. 21 and 42-44 on Bond Street and a number of other buildings in the city.

Earlier in the 20^th century, the building was occupied by businesses (paper box, photo engraving, and artificial flower companies), but after the decline of the manufacturing in Manhattan in the 1970s, a different crop of inhabitants moved in. Between 1972 and 1989, the space on the second floor was occupied by the studio of Robert Mapplethorpe (1946-1989), a famed photographer known for his sleek, yet shocking black-and-white images. In the 1980s Mapplethorpe moved his studio to a loft on 23^rd Street, which was purchased with the money provided by his long-term companion and mentor Sam Wagstaff (1921-1987), but maintained a darkroom in the building on Bond Street. Both Wagstaff and Mapplethorpe died of AIDS. Not long before the photographer’s death, the Mapplethorpe Foundation was established to promote his work and artistic vision and to support the HIV and AIDS research. A collection of Mapplethorpe prints is kept at the Guggenheim Museum. A video report about a recent exhibition of his photos can be found here (exquisite and explicit).

Update 7.7.13. A rare case when Google's snooping on me (and haven't we heard about this lately?) turns up something useful: here is an interview with Patti Smith, the legend of punk rock, who was Robert Mapplethorpe's lover and lifelong friend, about her memoir of their relationship, Just Kids, quite interesting. To refresh my memory, I listened to her Horses (that is her portrait by Mapplethorpe on the album cover) and was surprised to discover how enjoyable it was.

Since 1986, the ground floor has been used by the Gene Frankel Theatre. Gene Frankel (1919-2005), an influential theater director and acting coach, was one of the key figures in the creation of the Off Broadway scene in the 1950s and 60s and won three Obie awards for his productions. Apparently at one point the theater on Bond Street had its share of troubles with the Landmarks Commission because of its brightly painted facade, and the Commission seems to have won, because now the ground floor looks low-key, if not pristine. 

Photos by LB 2013

Meditation: I Am Here in This Body

Puerto Rico. Photo by Konstantine Sofer (2011).
See more of Kosta's wonderful photographs on Picasa. 

During a recent meditation, I received the following set of instructions for observing one's body and increasing one's awareness of the body. Despite its simplicity, I found this sequence to be surprisingly effective in two ways: as a means of breaking the cycle of restless thoughts and as a way to gain insight into the relationship between the mind and body. This meditation may be useful to people who tend to dissociate from their physical bodies or live in their heads. The sequence below can be used as a basic sketch that can be expanded, elaborated on, and adapted to one's needs.  

"Sit or lie down still. Relax your arms and legs. Call on the forces of light. Surround yourself with a protective bubble. Speak each of the following sentences, slowly and deliberately, and hold them in your mind. Reflect upon their meaning and observe images, thoughts, and sensations that might appear in your mind in response to these statements."

I am here.

I am here in this body.

I exist in this body.

I inhabit all of my body.

I feel my body’s boundaries.

I feel my body’s dimensions.

I sense all of my body’s surface.

I feel my body’s weight.

I trust my body.

I give in to gravity.

I am aware of my body’s sensations.

I accept my body’s sensations.
I sense my body's wisdom.

I am familiar with my body.

I have compassion for my body. 

I feel friendly towards my body.

Kykuit: A Patchwork Fairytale

Kykuit, view from south-east.

Kykuit (KY-kit or KY-cut, from the Dutch for “lookout”), the Rockefeller estate in Pocantico Hills near Tarrytown, NY, is like a fairytale: to enjoy it, you must accept its logic and suspend your disbelief. If you ask questions, especially those that start with a “why?” (e.g., “Why did Cinderella’s father marry a shrew and let her mistreat his daughter?”), the tale instantly loses its charm. So is Kykuit – delightful and enchanting on its own terms, when the rules of the outside world are placed on hold and the back story is forgotten.

NYC Scene: Cross and Crescent

The cross on St. Mary's Church
2nd Ave & 15 Street, New York
Photo: LB

Three-bar cross without a dome,

Eastern church aligned with Rome -

In this strange East Village scene

Story arc is byzantine.

A couple of weeks ago, walking up Second Avenue I noticed an eight-pointed cross projected against the evening sky. An Orthodox church, I thought, – not an unusual sight in East Village. The sign in front of the church, however, announced that it was St. Mary’s Catholic Church of the Byzantine Rite. This sounded like an oxymoron: how can something be Catholic and Byzantine at once? A page of dense text on St. Mary’s website explains that this church has been brought to the US by Carpatho-Ruthenians, or Rusyns; it follows the Eastern (Byzantine) ritual, yet bears allegiance to Rome and is therefore Catholic.

Sign in front of St. Mary's

Perhaps embarrassingly, I first learned about Rusyns from the movie The Deer Hunter, which, despite stellar cast, was so incoherent and made my BS-o-meter go out of scale so often that I dismissed it as a source of information altogether. The characters in this movie were said to be Russians, but were certainly not behaving like Russians: they were neat and cheerful, had strong work ethic and lived in a tight-knit community. At first I chalked it up to this film's high level of background nonsense, in the same category as the Cascades playing the role of the Appalachians, but later I found out that these people were in fact Rusyns, or Carpatho-Ruthenians, a Central European Slavic ethnicity. After running into St. Mary’s, I thought it was time to find out more about them.

Lunacy at the Old Theater

Curtain of the Mariinsky Theater. Photo from Wikipedia.

A more accurate title would be “Lunacy at the Bolshoi Theater”, but this would hint too strongly at the recent events at the Moscow Bolshoi Theater, which certainly qualify as lunacy, but are not what this post is about.

This spring, my home town, St. Petersburg, has finally inaugurated a new building of the opera and ballet theater, Mariinsky II. The new theater opened with a lavish gala on May 2, followed by Tchaikovsky’s opera Iolanta, whose enduring popularity is a mystery to me, and Balanchine’s ballet Jewels performed on May 3. Mostly enthusiastic reviews of the new building have prompted me to refresh my memory of the history of Mariinsky Theater. Among other things, I was curious about the very first performance given on stage of the old opera house.

Half Hour at the Morgan Library

The Morgan Library, south wall

It is a quintessential American story (by George!):

There lived a man who liked buying stuff. He filled two houses with stuff, but when stuff started to overflow his third house, he built a large shed to store his stuff. When the man died, his children held a garage sale and donated the rest of the stuff to charity.

The man in question is John Pierpont Morgan (1837 – 1913) (the JP Morgan, JPM) and his stuff – an eclectic collection of art, books, and manuscripts – at the time of his death was worth over $50M and accounted for up to three quarters of his estate. The big shed is what is now known as the Morgan Library and Museum on Madison Avenue and 36^th Street.

After Pierpont’s death, his son Jack, JPM, Jr., sold part of the estate to pay taxes, gave a large part (6 to 8 thousand pieces!) to the Metropolitan Museum, where his father had been a trustee since 1888 and the president since 1904, and in 1924 unloaded the rest into a trust overseeing a public library and museum.

A visit to the Morgan Library (visit virtually via the Google Art project), which offers free admission every Friday between 7 and 9 pm, was planned as yesterday’s after-dinner entertainment; but various circumstances intervened, and I ended up having only about 40 minutes to spend there. The Library is certainly worth a cursory look and perhaps more.

Milonga with Eric Jorissen

Eric Jorissen at Tango El Corte.
Screenshot from "This is El Corte!" film.

This was my third workshop with Eric Jorissen at Dance Manhattan. The previous two workshops about a year ago focused on colgadas and volcadas and were so well attended that there was barely any room to move, just like in a milonga. This time there were fewer people, plus I was in the middle of an energy dip, so I was phoning it in most of the time. However, looking back, I conclude that this workshop was useful.

Eric first observed the group dancing (oy vey!) and pointed out that many people were making quite large steps. Eric then proceeded to define a “footprint” of milonga as the length of the step that one can firmly take without reaching or lifting the heel of the leg that bears the weight before the step. This distance is surprisingly small, about shoulder width. Eric then asked the group to step and transfer weight from one foot to the other. The easiest direction to step out of the "footprint" area is forward. There was hardly any problem making small, tidy steps sideways or back, but the temptation was great when stepping forward. Since the leader mostly steps in forward direction, it is up to him to set the scale of this movement. The feet stay close to the floor; and the faster the pulse of the music, the smaller and cleaner the steps become.

NYC Scene: Riddle of the Girdle

74 St & 35 Ave, Jackson Heights. Photo: LB

Drop a shoe or half a dress

To become a new princess.

Monarchs are in short supply –

Time to let that girdle fly.

Cello at Carnegie Hall: Isserlis & St. Luke's

Breguet Clock in Carnegie Hall lobby. Photo: LB

The cello music theme has captured my attention since the recent Bargemusic concert. After that performance I remembered how during my brief sojourn in Seattle in 2004 I was lucky to hear two major cellists – Mstislav Rostropovich and Steven Isserlis – at the acoustically excellent Benaroya Hall. 

I was still reminiscing about the Seattle performances, when I discovered that Isserlis was about to play in New York City with the Orchestra of St. Luke’s on June 1. Originally this concert was supposed to be held on November 1, 2012, but at that time the area around Carnegie Hall was threatened by the dangling arm of the construction crane damaged by Hurricane Sandy and the concert was postponed. This was too much of a coincidence and too good a story to be missed, so I marched to Carnegie Hall.

NYC Scene: Junk in the Trunk

5th Avenue at Washington Square. Photo: LB

Too much sitting in one place

Isn’t good habit for one’s waist.

It’s a fact, you must agree:

You’ve got flab, - and you’re a tree.

NYC Scene: Bike Share

Rental bikes on LaGuardia Place, New York; photo: LB

If your life has lost its spice,

You should try this new device:

Risk and thrill by Money Mike,

Rent today a Citi bike!

Чем пахнет Пушкин

Onegin, 6 Ave at Waverly Place, New York

Меня давеча спросили, что для меня означала бы следующая фраза, всплывшая в чьём-то сне: «Ты пахнешь, как Пушкин». Тот, кому эта фраза пришла, по-видимому, рано утратил связь с русской культурой, поэтому меня призвали в качестве эксперта по вынюхиванию классиков.

Чем пахнет Пушкин?

Как говаривала Баба Яга, «Чую, чую, русским духом пахнет!», а Пушкин ей вторил, правду говоришь, бабка, «Там русский дух... там Русью пахнет!»

Я подумала, что лирика Пушкина если и пахнет, то природой да положенными розами, а вот поэмы источают разнообразные ароматы, особенно Евгений Онегин. Веет от них жизнью, какой её воспринимал человек с острым глазом, ухом, нюхом и зубом, до этой самой жизни зело охочий. Не претендуя на полноту или даже добросовестность, я набросала шутейный и беспорядочный список пушкинских ароматов, которые запали мне в нос, по принципу «сколько ни говори халва», во рту сладко всё же станет, особенно если правильно говорить, в чём Пушкин был мастер.

Так чем же пахнет Пушкин?

Женщинами

Зимой, морозом, снегом, ненастьем, лошадьми, мокрым мехом и овчиной

Природой, погодой, остальными тремя временами года, влажным климатом, деревней, грибами и ягодами

Городом

Хорошей, недиетической едой

Хорошим алкоголем

Старым домом, хозяйством, чаем, дымом, табаком

Одеждой и парфюмерией

Театром

Деньгами, богатством и бедностью, подземельем, смертью, порохом, адом

Отсутствием запаха

Squeezing the Mongoose

Black Jambhala, Tibet, 13 c., Rubin Museum

No, I haven’t come up with a new euphemism (or have I?). 

I am referring to Jambhala, the pot-bellied deity of wealth in Tibetan Tantric tradition. Jambala exists in five different forms – Yellow, Red, Black, White, and Green Jambhala – and is usually portrayed holding a mongoose in his left hand. Jambhala squeezes the mongoose against his pudgy side, and the animal spews jewels out of his mouth.

The Black Jambhala (or Kubera in Hindu mythology) from the Rubin Museum collection is also accompanied by a snake, a guardian of treasure and a symbol of avarice, and treads on a supine Lord of Wealth, who appears to be quite lifeless. In his right hand, Jambhala holds a Kapala (cup made of a human skull). When worshiped properly, Jambhala’s blessings include freedom from poverty (so that one might practice Dharma), fulfillment of wishes, and good relationships. The correct ritual includes pouring water on his belly (for the Black Jambhala; or head for other forms) and chanting an appropriate mantra.

Tatyana at the not-so-lotus feet
of Mayor LaGuardia

I am no Buddhist, but Jambhala does not look like a jealous god, so I will make up my own appeal to him:

“O Jambhala, 
Teach us how much is enough.

Help us provide for the old and sick.

Allow me to have enough resources

to remain healthy 
and not to let fear and uncertainty

to distract me from doing 
what is important.

But first please give me 
some time and food

to figure out what is important.”

Now, is it me or does the good Mayor LaGuardia have something of Jambhala in his figure and body language? Alas, the mongoose is missing, perhaps due to budget cuts. 

Speaking of providing necessities, the bag of food comes from the tried and true Boyd Thai place (210 Thompson St. at Bleecker St. near NYU).

See more about Jambhala here and a very politically correct description from Rubin Museum here.

Thanks to Tatyana!

Gancho, Tibetan Style

Lords of the Charnel Ground, Tibet, 18th century,
Rubin Museum of Art, New York

Take a look at the double gancho (leg hook) executed by the Tibetan lords of charnel ground, who dance ecstatically to celebrate their joy of being free from attachment. These deities are brother and sister. The brother wears a garland of freshly severed human heads, and the sister wears a garland of dried skulls and holds a staff and a golden vase. They are revered as powerful protectors.

The prayer on the back of this plaque says (according to the Rubin Museum exhibit description):

“Eliminate misery from harmful spirits, fire, water, and lightning, the perseverance of ill-will, robbery, thievery, and harmful underground and earth spirits; in short, protect from outer, inner, and secret adverse conditions from today until attaining great awakening.”

Photo: Tatyana Rector

NYC Scene: Not My Problem

ABC Store, Jackson Heights, Queens

If your tail is flat and bony,

But you wish it weren't as scrawny,

Your defects are yours to hide:
Reupholster your backside!

An Ode to My Body

Hermitage Cat, St. Petersburg, Russia

While watching videos of the lectures by Tara Brach, I came across one lecture titled “The Divine Abodes”. Although dyslexia does not seem to be among my afflictions, I often misread things in creative ways, and every time I looked at this title, I read it as “The Divine Antibodies”.

Then late yesterday I was given a meditation task: “Write – and publish – an ode to your physical body. Be frilly and flowery. Lay it on thick.”

The Divine Antibodies

I am yet to make peace with you.

Every time I look in the mirror, I question how this creature could possibly be me.

I remember the times, eons ago, when you were different, – lean, fit, strong, and male. In those times, I liked taking risks and often put you in danger, but it was a thrill to live in that body. Now you are not as exciting, but I have lost my taste for death.

But now you seem to be as confused as I am. You cannot tell what is yours and what isn’t. You attack what you think does not belong to you, and I am caught in your friendly fire.

I do not understand the purpose of this confusion.

You spite me with those antibodies and rob me of energy. I resent it, but sometimes it prevents me from wasting my energy on things that do not deserve it.

I often create stress, and you get back at me by flooding us both with adrenalin.

Sometimes I eat the wrong things, I don’t let you sleep enough, and I deny you the joy of a better lymphatic flow. You have a million sneaky ways of reminding me that I cannot win against you.

You have a mind of your own. I do not always appreciate the competition.

You are supposed to be a vehicle of my soul. Sometimes I think that you know more about it than I do.

Why are you eating while I’m not looking?

I used to strongly dislike you. But it gets better with age.

Early on your size and shape saved me the trouble of trying to become a dancer. It was not a bad choice.

But you still have ballet exercises hard-wired in you. I am always puzzled about where you got it from.

You showed me what it means to have a natural talent, after I spent quarter of a century doing things for which I have no gifts. Talent is a 50% off coupon: you still need to work, but I have a huge advantage. I can trust you to figure things out.

I do not want you to grow any new things, unless you really, really need them.

I think I am your master. I am probably wrong.

I am learning to appreciate you.

I was taught that it is not good to like things that are not perfect, and you are certainly flawed. But you can still do beautiful things.

Once I dreamed that I died, but needed to come back and work. I made myself a new body out of otherworldly trash. That homemade vehicle was okay for the office, but it was not nearly as good as you, even though no one but me noticed the difference.

You are just what I need.

But please curb those divine antibodies.


Update 5.16.13: "Very well. And now keep writing and rewriting this ode regularly until it ends with an unambivalent 'I adore you!'" 

Ganchos with Pablo Pugliese and Noel Strazza

Thanks to Young Kim

Yesterday (5/12/13) I attended a workshop on ganchos with Pablo Pugliese and Noel Strazza at Dance Manhattan. This was a second time that I took workshops with them, and this workshop only reinforced my initial positive impression. In fact this workshop was calmer and quieter than the first one, which worked well for me. These guys have a good understanding of movement and can articulate it well; they are relaxed, helpful and humorous. Meanwhile the student groups at DM consistently follow the law of Forrest Gump, that is, you never know what you're gonna get. This time the group reflected the typical broad distribution of skills and attitudes.

Pablo has the most illustrious tango pedigree as the son of Mingo and Esther Pugliese (tango - tango - milonga - vals - I intentionally selected videos showing them in their 70s), who were to a large degree responsible for the creation of the modern tango style in the 1940s and 50s and the revival of tango both in Argentina and abroad in the 1980s and 90s. So far I found the most literate and articulate account of their story in an interview with Mingo and Esther for the French magazine La Salida (No. 47, February-March 2006). A Russian translation of this interview, along with several other notable articles, is published on TangoSquare site in Kazakhstan (yes, people, there is tango in Almaty - look it up on the map). Pablo began dancing tango at the age of nine, performing on stage at eleven, and in his teens started teaching tango abroad with his mother, when Mingo was unable travel.

In the Temple of Goddess Louisa

The Cloisters, New York

Once I was given the following meditation task: “Imagine being a minor deity. Create your own cult. Build your own temple. Be as decorative and aesthetically excessive as you wish. Do not edit or judge.”

I was inspired by this exercise, and part by part, quite effortlessly, my temple sprung into existence.

The first discovery that I made was an unexpected color scheme. I have always considered deep jewel tones – burgundy, ultramarine, purple, and emerald green – to be my colors. But my temple began to emerge in a much lighter and more subdued palette of moss-eaten stone, weathered yellowish and gray marble, light purplish pink of heather, deep green of pine needles, and light ochre of sand. A large compound of stone buildings quickly grew in front of my mind's eye, with arches and galleries, spacious chambers and quiet cloisters. Fountains and basins filled with water appeared in many places and filled the space with reflections and gentle sounds.

Sesto Will Make It: Giulio Cesare at the Met

Photo: Marty Sohl/Met Opera

“What do you think, will Sesto make it?” – “Of course, he will. It’s Baroque, only the bad guys die.”

I overheard this conversation in the ladies’ room of the Met Opera after the first act of Handel’s Giulio Cesare on Tuesday (5/7/13). Indeed, in 18th century operas the body count is low and the casualties are suffered mostly by the villains. But when the opera is four and a half hours long, the pertinent question is whether the audience will make it to the end!

Сон: Цитирую Гребенщикова на том свете

Photo: www.russianlook.com

Я нахожусь где-то на том свете, хотя ещё не померла, и вместе с другими обучаюсь всякой премудрости. Нашим обучением руководит Главный Дух, дядька средних лет в голубой рубашке и штанах-хаки, который выглядит как слегка потёртый школьный учитель. Мы, учащиеся, разыгрываем скетчи и сценки, которые должны объяснить нам какие-то мистические концепции на наглядных примерах. Одна из изучаемых тем – это прижизненные преображения души в результате всяких перипетий и испытаний. Главный Дух что-то объясняет по этому поводу, а я его и спрашиваю: “Это что, как у Гребенщикова про йогина, который ночью на кладбище отсекает привязанности, скармливая себя "голодным духам":

Они съедят его тело,

Они выпьют кровь до дна,

И к утру он чист-безгрешен,

Не привязан ни хрена. ”

Главный Дух отвечает, “Ага, именно так”.

* * *

I am somewhere in Otherworld, but not dead yet. Together with others I receive instruction in otherworldly wisdom. The proceedings are supervised by the Chief Spirit, a middle-aged guy in a blue shirt and khaki pants, who looks a bit like a slightly scruffy school teacher. We the students play-act various scenes and sketches that are supposed to expound different mystical concepts using simple examples. One of the studied themes is the transformations that the soul undergoes, while still dwelling in the body, as a result of various trials and tribulations of earthly life. The Chief Spirit explains something about this subject, and I ask him (in Russian), “So, is it similar to what Grebenshchikov wrote about a yogi, who severs attachments at night on charnel ground and feeding himself to the hungry spirits:

They will eat his body,
They will drink his blood to the last drop,
But by morning he’ll be pure and sinless,
Not attached even one bit.”

The Chief Spirit responds, “Yeah, exactly so.”

* * * 

Boris Grebenshchikov is an influential figure in late Soviet and later Russian popular culture, as a rock musician and the frontman of Aquarium, one of the oldest and most prominent Russian bands. Grebenshchikov is a prolific songwriter and frequently includes ideas and images borrowed from Buddhism and other Eastern philosophical traditions into his songs. His songs thus possess certain quasi-profound or mystical charm, which many people find attractive. I have never been a big fan of Grebenshchikov’s art, even though we finished the same high school, so it is all the more curious that I chose to quote his song in a dream.

Shakespeare in Africa

Photo: Richard Temine/BAM

A couple of weeks ago I was lucky to see Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar in a new production by the Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC) performed at the Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM).

When I arrived at the picturesquely shabby Harvey Theater, the party was already underway: as the auditorium was filling up, on stage a group of actors in African garb were dancing to the music played by a small band. Even though I had seen posters for this production in the city, only then did I realize that this Caesar would be radically transplanted onto a very foreign soil.

This was a big gamble, and so I promised myself that I would leave as soon as I hear the buzz of Shakespeare spinning in his grave. However, not ten minutes into the performance, I completely forgot about my escape plans, because the RSC has won me over with their craft.

Carpe Diem - New York Attractions

Photo: LB

Recently I was asked to recommend places of interest in New York City that are worth showing to out-of-town guests. I started thinking about all those numerous NYC attractions that over the years have given joy to me and my friends and guests. The list was long, and I decided that I was wise to visit these places when I had a chance. Carpe diem seems to be the motto in this case. Here are my places of joy in New York.

Immigration Museum on Ellis Island (reopened after hurricane Sandy, with some exceptions). Inexplicably, all my guests loved it. Excellent free audio tours. 

Museum of Modern Art. Get in for free on Friday after 5 pm, start at the top floor and proceed toward the ground floor. 

Metropolitan Museum of Art. One can live there. My favorite sections are medieval armor, medieval art and Egypt. "Suggested admission", i.e., pay what you wish at all times. 

Guggenheim Museum. Worth visiting for the building alone. Pay what you wish Saturday 5:45-7:45 pm.

The Cloisters. Medieval department of the Met Museum. Irresistible in good weather, can be strangely peaceful. Long subway ride, but rewarding. "Recommended admission", i.e., pay what you wish.

Frick Collection. A small, but very pleasant fine arts museum. My favorites there are Bellini’s St. Francis of Assisi in the Desert, two portraits by Hans Holbein Jr., one of Thomas More, the other of Cromwell, and a charming clock by Lepaut with a terracotta sculpture by Clodion. Pay what you wish Sunday 11 am to 1 pm.

Cathedral of St. John the Divine. Excellent tours: it is one of those places that are more interesting to explore with a guide than on your own.

Riverside Church. Interesting history and structure, excellent music programs, very decent choir (sings every Sunday morning service), organ, and carillon, a gift from JD Rockefeller. Also visit Columbia University campus nearby and Grant's Memorial across the street.

American Museum of Natural History. Fascinating exhibitions, Planetarium, and IMAX theater. "Suggested admission", i.e., pay what you wish at all times.

Greenwich Village and the recently gentrified SoHo. Clubs (e.g., Blue Note), restaurants and cafes (La Lanterna has music nights). Walk in the Washington Square Park. Try jazz at Village Vanguard. Take Free Tours by Foot (pay what you wish). Eat borscht at the Olive Tree (117 MacDougal St.) watching Chaplin movies and drawing with chalk on table tops. 

St. Patrick's Cathedral and Rockefeller Center. 

Lincoln Center: Metropolitan Opera, Avery Fisher Hall (Philharmonic), Alice Tully Hall (chamber music), Julliard School, etc. A heaven for a lover of classical music, opera, and ballet. Rush tickets are now sold for $25 online beginning at noon on the day of the performance. Take a backstage tour of the Met during opera season. Hurry before this place goes bankrupt like the City Opera.

Carnegie Hall, Zankel Hall, Weill Hall. Another must-visit place for a classical music fan. Excellent acoustics for chamber music at Zankel Hall.

New York Public Library. Splendid interior at the Schwarzman Building with the lions on 42nd St and 5th Avenue. Free tours at 11 am and 2 pm (only 2 pm on Sunday). Good exhibitions.

Morgan Library and Museum. JP Morgan's private collection and a small museum, interesting interior, good collection of Near-Eastern seals and cuneiform tablets, fascinating history. Free admission on Fridays 7 pm to 9 pm ought to be taken advantage of. See my story about Morgan Library.

Trinity Church at World Trade Center. Excellent music programs at Trinity and at St Paul's Chapel nearby.

Joe's Pub and Public Theater. Joe’s Pub is a cabaret with an excellent music program. Book seats online. The best seats are the ones close to the stage or at the festooned "bar" between pillars on the slightly elevated second level.

The View Lounge, a huge revolving space at the top of the Mariott Marquis Hotel on Times Sq. Enjoy the elevator ride up there! Order drinks in the lounge, sit at the window and enjoy (also see Kosta's comment below on how to avoid waiting in line). A full revolution takes a little over one hour and the view from the top is exceptional, especially in fair weather.

High Line Park. This place was built around an old elevated rail track remaining from the olden days. Very pleasant way to spend an hour or two in good weather. 

Circle Line Sightseeing Cruises, boat rides in a circle around Manhattan (2.5 h long) or along a horseshoe around the southern half of the island (1.5 h), very enjoyable in good weather. Leaves from Pier 83 (42nd St., next to the Intrepid). On the Semicircle Cruise outbound loop, park yourself outside on the left side of the boat and snap great pics. Alternatively, take the Staten Island Ferry (free, 25 min trip), East River Ferry ($4-12), or water taxi ($5-30). 

Pearl Theatre. A small theater with offbeat repertoire.

The Noguchi Museum. Museum and sculpture garden of Isamu Noguchi in Queens. Pleasant way to spend a couple of hours when not in a hurry to do anything else (open Wed-Sun, closes early). 

tkts booths for discount tickets to Broadway shows. The one on Times Square is worth visiting for the cool red steps above it, a great place to take photos. I am allergic to musical theater, but some people consider it to be quintessential NYC form of entertainment.

Rubin Museum of Art, Art of the Himalayas and South Asia, interesting building, a small collection that cannot compete with the Met Museum, but focused and therefore educational; music programs on Wednesdays 5-7 pm. Free on Friday 6-10 pm.

Neue Gallerie. German and Austrian XX c. art in a small mansion on 5th Ave and 86 St. A nice place to visit in good company when you've seen it all in NYC. Free 6-8 pm first Friday of every month.

Intrepid Museum. Great fun for boys of all ages and sexes.

Brooklyn Academy of Music. BAM offers a diverse program of music, theater, and cinema, but for me it is a place to get a dose of Shakespeare. Easy commute from Manhattan.

Bronx Botanical Garden. Beautiful grounds and excellent exhibitions. Grounds are free all day Wednesday and 9-10 am on Saturday. Exhibitions require tickets.

Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Free on Tuesday and 10-12 am on Saturday. 

Kyukit (K-EYE-kit), the Rockefeller Estate in Tarrytown. If you go there by train (about 40 min ride from Grand Central, Metro North Hudson Line), on the way there, sit on the left side and enjoy spectacular views of the Hudson River. Also visit the Union Church with Chagall and Matisse stained glass windows. Very good dining on the main street in Tarrytown. See my story about Kyukit.

Bargemusic, a chamber music concert space on an old barge under the Brooklyn Bridge. Easy commute from Manhattan, excellent program. Half-price tickets for students. If you are prone to motion sickness and cannot tolerate occasional noise from the river, stay on terra firma and go to Zankel Hall or Alice Tully Hall instead. Spectacular view of lower Manhattan from near the Barge. It's also a good place to stop before or after walking across the Brooklyn Bridge.

Princeton University. The campus (virtual tour) is pleasant to visit, especially in the fall. A little over 1 hr train ride from Penn Station (Northeast Corridor). Catch a free concert at the Chapel. Several ok eateries on the streets just outside the campus.

TimeOut New York, a good source of information about various NYC events, including free ones.

Get this list in PDF with links.

Photo: Empire State Building illuminated in honor of the World AIDS Day (December 1, 2012)