Random Dispatches

Sometimes New York pulses with an energy unlike any other city I’ve seen.  Today has been one of those days.

Wendy and I got up this morning and went to our local cafe, Le Bergamote, for the best ham & cheese croissants in town.  The place was packed and the weather outside was furious - the wind was literally whipping the leaves off the trees:

We decided to hit up some galleries, starting with Pace Wildenstein to see the Richard Avedon exhibit.  The exhibit was almost exhausting in its scope: it contained photos of a shocking number of influential people from the 20th century.  From Bob Dylan to Marilyn Monroe to Dwight Eisenhower.

Literally, across the street the Matthew Marks gallery was exhibiting the latest work from Andreas Gursky.

Two blocks away, on 24th, Fredericks & Freiser had a show by Zak Smith.  If you’ve never heard of Zak Smith, I suggest you take a look at his portfolio.  It bursts with colour, detail and creativity; one wall of the gallery was covered with dozens of minute detailed drawings characterizing his history (which, by the way, is as colourful as his art).

A second room in the gallery contained all the drawings from On The Road of Knives - a project between Smith and two other artists whereby they mail drawings to one another in an ongoing story (check out the link for the chronology).

A block further, on 25th, the Yossi Milo Gallery was showing Lise Safarti’s retrospective of photos she took in Russia while living there from 1991 to 2000.  It’s a complicated mixture of decaying factories, traditional wooden architecture and homosexual boys.  These may sound like three things that should never be juxtaposed, but Safarti creates a touching portrait of a nation going through profound changes post the collapse of communism.

As if this all the art wasn’t enough to overwhelm, there was more going on outside.

Underneath the High Line, a 3 ton steel sculpture you could walk through had just been installed.

The sky was clearing, meaning that fog could be seen tearing across the rooftops of building.

And on the corner of 24th and 10th, the largest crane I’ve ever seen was being used to take down a the crane and it looked as if the construction workers were literally walking in the sky:

Like I said, sometimes this city just crackles with energy.

It’s been a busy week of culture here in New York.  On Monday, Wendy took me to the Lincoln Center to see La Traviata:

The opera was great, although I must admit I was exhausted at the end.  I think it may have had something to do with the fact that Wendy had dragged me to The Duchess the night before.  Two period pieces in a row is quite exhausting.  Next time I’ll go for Wagner.

Fortunately, it as the Knicks home opener against Miami on Wednesday night.  Scott and I went; here’s the opening tip-off:

Remarkably good game; New York was up by over 15 but Miami closed it and almost took the game in the final minute.  Of note: this is the only town that boos its own players.  Both Eddie Curry and Stephon Marbury were booed during introductions.  Ironically, later on the crowd was cheering “We want Steph” (neither Curry or Marbury played; the coach has benched them both).

Wen and I just got back from watching Beck at the United Palace Theater (a unique venue if ever there was one).  I hadn’t seen him for over ten years [insert cheesy quote about how we've both aged, but the music hasn't] and the sound’s a bit different now.  A lot more rocking (my ears will be ringing for a few days) and a bit less hip-hop.

He still has the ability to surprise.  Halfway through the show the whole band ditched their instruments and beatboxed a few songs on stage.  After that it was some folk and a bit of country.  Other than that, it was pretty rocking with a lot of rock-ey remixes of the popular faves.

Here’s a photo for those of you who won’t be making it:

With all the news recently about the global financial crisis, some of you may be wondering, what happens when a bank fails?  I mean, not all of us are lucky enough to be in towns with failing banks so that we can witness it with our own eyes.  Fortunately, I live in New York and the banks here are dropping like flies, so I can give you an update.

If you’re JP Morgan Chase and you’ve bought Washington Mutual, you haven’t done too much.  There’s a branch in my building at work and there’s nary a sign that it’s now part of JPM.  Similarly, their website doesn’t really mention it either.

On the other hand, if you bought an investment bank that collapsed in ignominy, it’s a different story.  Barclays is making sure that there are no doubts that there’s no more Lehman Brothers and it’s now Barclays:

For those of you who don’t live in the City of Disappearing Financial Institutions a.k.a. New York, you may be wondering what happens when, say, Washington Mutual or Lehman Brothers go bankrupt and get bought

I love bands who dance to their own music.  It’s as if they wrote their own songs as nobody else could create anything they could listen to.  Over the years I’ve found that these bands tend to put on the best shows.

And so it was last night at Webster Hall where Cut Copy tore the place apart (on a Monday night!).  The overwhelming feeling was that they loved their own music - but not in a narcissistic way.  Rather, it was as though the band had a goal to make people dance and their music just happens to be the best way yet they’ve found to get a thousand people to dance together.

It was a great show.  Here’s a photo:

Check out what was floating in the Hudson today:

Every day I walk past Rozzo & Sons fish wholesalers. It’s a furnace of nasty smells on Ninth Ave. By the time I’m going to work they’ve been up for hours and the street has been reduced to a sea of boxes, melting ice and fishy water.

There are two things I love about it. The first is that it harkens back to when this was a working city and the sidewalk was an extension of your shop-and possibly your workshop.

The other thing that I love is that it reminds me of how small the world is. Check out the photo below. A day or two ago, a boat in the Falklands came back to port with a fish. Hours later it was on a plane to New York. Shortly after it was sold in the Bronx at the new Fulton Fish Market and then it ended up passing through a store on Ninth on its way to a restaurant. The only trace is a box left lying on a Thursday morning.

So I went away for the weekend and someone in my neighbourhood was murdered.  However, before you panic, you can rest as the suspect is in custody.  In fact, he’s being interviewed right now.  This is the scene outside Precinct 10:

You can’t tell from this photo, but there are in fact six tv vans plus another one circling the block.  It’s an absolute zoo…

…running to the airport with a bag over your shoulder and having Wen casually remark that the bag is on its last legs. And at that exact moment the strap snaps and everything goes tumbling into the streets. If it wasn’t so funny I might have been frustrated.