Divine Hello, Dolly!

In the new revival of Jerry Herman's Hello, Dolly!, Bette Midler doesn’t so much inhabit the character of Dolly Gallagher Levi as allow Dolly to inhabit her own divinity. With double takes and side eyes, Bette's Dolly breaks the fourth wall while mining all the laughs from Michael Stewart’s classic book. (Breaking the fourth wall is a typical conceit of original playwright Thornton Wilder.) Midler is ably aided by David Hyde Pierce, a perfect foil as Horace Vandergelder and someone who the producers felt worthy enough to add the previously cut Vandergelder solo, Penny In My Pocket, as the second act opener. The rest of the supporting cast sing and dance joyfully in the ageless musical: Gavin Creel as Cornelius Hackl is adorable, Kate Baldwin as Irene Molloy is resplendent, Taylor Trensch as Barnaby Tucker is a mensch and Beanie Feldstein as Minnie Fay is a revelation. The sets are darling, dances energetic throwbacks, costumes colorfully vintage and Herman’s songs tuneful as ever.

Undoubtedly though everyone in the house for this first (March 15) preview was there for Midler’s return to the musical theatre. Exhilaration was in the air as we braved the 20 degree weather for the 8:00 PM curtain. (No late seating EVER … for this engagement.) When Bette finally enters on a trolley, there’s a standing ovation. Bette lifts her skirts to dance at Irene Molloy’s, there’s a standing ovation. She sings the act one closer Before The Parade Passes By, there’s a standing ovation. And following the always entertaining Waiters’ Gallop, when the Harmonia Gardens curtains part and Bette descends the stairs to the strains of the classic title tune, the roar of approval is deafening. Bette’s Dolly is, at once, boisterous, reflective, quirky … and quite hungry. This role would be her star-making turn - if she hadn’t already been a star for almost fifty years! Bette Midler in Hello, Dolly! is an event that comes along once in a lifetime and lucky me I have tickets for two more events. How lucky can you get!

(How lucky can you get! See what I did there?)

Click the link for a NSFW throwback on Bette called It's Not Porn. It's Bette Midler!.

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The High Bridge, New York

The High Bridge (originally the Aqueduct Bridge) is the oldest bridge in New York City. On June 9, 2015 it reopened as a pedestrian and bicycle thruway after being closed for over 40 years. It connects The Bronx and Manhattan over the Harlem River. The eastern end is located in the Highbridge section of The Bronx near the western end of West 170th Street, and the western end is located in Highbridge Park in Manhattan, roughly Washington Heights. These are pictures taken on a walk over the bridge on July 11, 2015.

The High Bridge Water Tower was built in 1866-72, and was accompanied by a 7-acre reservoir. The High Bridge system reached its full capacity by 1875 and, with the opening of the Croton Aqueduct, the High Bridge system was less relied upon. During World War I it was shut down. In 1949 the tower was removed from service, and a carillon (bell) was installed in 1958. The tower was damaged by arson in 1984. It was restored in 1989-90.

Is this the last remaining Howard Johnson's Motel in existence? It's on The Bronx side of the High Bridge.

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What is Art ... Amnesty?

Courtyard at MOMA PS1

As I warmed in the dinette with a cup of tea at MOMA PS1, the Long Island City adjunct to the Museum of Modern Art, the smell of hot lunch permeated the once-upon-a-time school building and the lining of my stomach, the latter causing some quiet growling. My friend arrived and we traversed the galleries finding ourselves fascinated by (the exhibits) Zero Tolerance, Samara Golden's The Flat Side of the Knife, Francesco Vezzoli's Teatro Romano and The Little Things Could Be Dearer. Nothing caused more discussion and consternation though than Bob and Roberta Smith's Art Amnesty. Art Amnesty begins in the museum courtyard with four dumpsters marked THROW YOUR ART AWAY. Somewhat perplexing but when we walked into the Art Amnesty gallery, I put two and two together, came up with four, and found a fascinating concept. According to the guidelines @BobandRoberta:

... are offering an opportunity for artists to dispose of their artwork at MoMA PS1, and to retire from making art. Beginning October 2, artists are invited to deposit their art in dumpsters located in the museum’s courtyard, which will be emptied as needed throughout the period of the Art Amnesty. Those who wish to exhibit their work one final time before it is destroyed may bring their art to the 2nd Floor Main Galleries, where museum staff will install it for public view. The museum will accept work under the Art Amnesty during regular hours, subject to certain restrictions outlined in the submission guidelines. The exhibition reprises and expands upon their Art Amnesty originally presented at Pierogi Gallery in 2002.

from Art Amnesty

The Art Amnesty gallery displays a lot of art; some of the larger pieces are actually very good, a scattered few wouldn't be out of place on their mother's refrigerator and much is very bad but all of it will be disposed of when the exhibit closes on March 8, 2015. There is some real garbage including a Merrel brand shoe marked as Champs that someone removed in the museum and a banana peel enclosed in an empty plantain chips bags. The exhibit seeks to answer the questions:

Why are some people artists while others are not? Was Joseph Beuys an idiot when he said everyone is an artist? Do artists think they are a cut above the rest of us? Are the arts a good in themselves, or is it much, much, more complicated than that?

from Art Amnesty

As I walked around the gallery I wanted to contribute. I surmised that the use of the word amnesty gives anyone the right to offer up art. At the very least I would've brought in a tshirt I designed for my crew d'tees line just to hang it in a nationally recognized museum - adjunct. But alas, all I could do was leave the gallery and visit the bathroom. I was still hungry so I ate a banana I had while listening to my friend urinate. When he had zipped up, I said that I should bring my banana peel into Art Amnesty. He was somewhat aghast but I countered that the point of the exhibit is amnesty, defined as a forgetting or overlooking of any past offense; in this case the offense being whatever the artist deems to be art. After some discussion, my friend pulled an empty bag of plantain chips out of his jacket pocket and said I might as well use this garbage too. When I realized that bananas and plantains were of the same fruit family but used (primarily) in different cultures I realized that by putting the banana peel into the plantain chip bag I was illustrating global assimilation. Much to my friend's consternation my art had turned into a collaborative piece.

Global Assimil- ation in Art Amnesty

I walked into the gallery and started explaining my thought process to the docent before asking if he really wanted to hear my thought process. He replied in the affirmative so I told him everything and he was perfectly fine with it - even smiling. Then I asked if he had some paper I could tape the bag to. He handed me a sheet and a stapler. Then I asked for a pen so I could title it. He directed me to a table with colored pencils and crayons and said I could use whatever was there. (Much of the art work in the gallery had obviously been done at this table.) So I wrote three lines on my paper:

• GLOBAL in yellow signifying the sun
• ASSIMIL- in blue signifying the sky
• ATION in brown signifying the earth

I handed my art to the docent, filled out my I NEVER WANT TO SEE THIS WORK OF ART AGAIN pledge, signed the I WILL ENCOURAGE CHILDREN TO BE ALL THAT THEY CAN BE. CHOOSE ART AT SCHOOL. pledge (which is to be mailed to Jeb Bush), and my art was hung up (fittingly) next to the art work that I had deemed my favorite when I first walked through the gallery.

from Art Amnesty

As we walked home, my friend was resolute in his disgust. He said what I hung up was garbage, plain and simple. (What about the shoe? The Shoe!) No matter how much verbal diarrhea I explicated, my friend could not grasp the concept of Art Amnesty: that using the word amnesty in the exhibit's name allows anyone and everyone to contribute art, precluding judgment on said art and allowing anyone and everyone to proudly proclaim I am an artist. I might even go back with one of my crew d'tees tshirts!

PS: The day after my validation as an artist at MOMA PS1 I went grocery shopping and was asked to sign my credit card slip. When I handed the signed slip back to the cashier she told me I had the signature of an artist. That's two validations as an artist in one week!

Teatro Romano

Mirrors as The Flat Side of the Knife

from Zero Tolerance

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Tails From The Road

or How to Move from California to New York in Six Months

I'm a New Yorker by birth, a Californian by choice. Six months back I was sitting in my sunny home in the Silicon Valley, looking out its big picture window traversed by an Asian pear tree and wondering how I could take everything I need and plop it in the middle of Manhattan Island. For almost thirty years, I'd tasted a great deal of what the Golden State had to offer but now I was dreaming of New York City.

My sunny home in the Silicon Valley, California

Dozens of curb appeal renovations, Craigslist offerings and garage sales later, the house was sold and my remaining possessions were in a pod traveling across the United States. On August 10, clutching our one-way tickets, Max and I took a town car to San Francisco International Airport, plopped our butts in first class seats and left California for the bright lights of Broadway. Thirty years ago, I moved to Los Angeles because I couldn't afford to live in New York City and now I was returning ... A STAR!

Within days of arriving, I had my first appointment to see my first apartment in my first building. When I walked into the second floor Upper East Side studio with an alcove, I was faced with a wall of windows traversed by a sidewalk tree in front of the studio's outdoor balcony which opened onto 1st Avenue. There were no pears but Apartment 2D addressed every item on my Apartment Wants list and threw in a 24 hour doorman to boot! I saw options but kept going back to 2D so I made an offer the seller couldn't refuse and soon found myself under contract to become an officer for a corporation in which I own the number of shares that is equal to the square footage of an actual co-op apartment in New York City.

Then the shit hit the fan!

When you get back to your blue-blooded sisters would you tell them that
the Ricardo/Mertz investigating committee looked you over and
we have no desire to join your phony baloney club!

Buying property in New York City is akin to Lucy Ricardo and Ethel Mertz trying to get into the Society Matrons League; you must be approved before you can proceed. (See I Love Lucy S01E25 Pioneer Women.) In life, the judgment process includes approval of your financials by the building's board of directors (submitted in a board package), and a board interview in which you meet board members for a two (or more) on one. I signed the contract for Apartment 2D on September 12, my board package was approved November 6, the board interview was on December 5 and I took possession of the apartment on December 20. That's 99 days with nothing but a computer, a suitcase, a rental car and a Jack Russell Terrier in the back seat wanting a treat.

Max!

I worked every weekday but, for all intents and purposes, I was homeless. So like a good Jew, I wandered ... and worried that the deal would fall through.

• Rented three cars, two of which were Hyundais, and one of which was sideswiped by my best friend. I feigned ignorance and have yet to receive a bill.
• Drove up and down the East Coast, going over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, visiting Savannah, and enjoying quality time with family in Florida.
• Learned to fly on my bicycle.
• Experienced the horror of life in the hamlet of Holbrook - including an eviction, along with my brother, from his marriage home of 12 years (where I'd been bunking) by his (soon to be ex) wife. My brother's happier than I've seen him in years!
• Lived off the breakfast buffets of any number of hotels.
• Yelped (almost) every cemetery up and down the East Coast. Good places to walk Max and see ghosts but no peeing on the headstones. Bad karma.
• Spent $1200 for two nights in a very chic hotel off Central Park for Max's first trip to New York City. This was on November 25 for a board interview scheduled the next day but postponed five hours before the allotted time because of a fire that lead to the building's evacuation.

A week and a half after the postponed board interview, on December 5, I received a phone call that the new board interview was scheduled for that night at 7:00 PM. It was 2:00 PM and I was in Albany, bunking with friends in their reconverted 19th century tavern (where I learned the fine art of making log fires in the kitchen's wood stove). I showered, changed, grabbed the suitcase and computer, threw Max in the car, drove 138 miles to New York City, and got there with time to spare. The board interview was about 20 minutes long, and conducted by two gentlemen. We discussed my work, courteousness, California, neighbors, the building, respect, New York City, and Max - who was quietly lying under the conference table. I was notified the following day that the sale was approved. Exactly two weeks later I had the keys to my light and airy new studio with an alcove on the Upper East Side of Manhattan...and a home.

OK, maybe it was just a parody of homelessness but it felt weird.

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The Old Whalers Church and Burying Ground

I recently drove the eastern stretch of Sunrise Highway on Long Island to see the Hamptons for the first time. I now get the Hamptons. It's possibly the most arborous area of an island that I am finding I don't know that well. Driving through Quogue, Southampton, Hampton Bays, and Sag Harbor gave me the opportunity to see an area I never saw when I was growing up here.

As I drove through Sag Harbor, I happened upon the Old Whaler's Church. The church itself was not open but The Old Burying Ground always is! Some of these grave markers are illegible thus the map at the entrance. Still and all, one of the great, historic cemeteries to see. It also seems, from the front gate, that the church is home to the Hamptons GLBT Center. More coolness.

And best of all - Max approves!

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Bad to the Bone: A Foray into Show Business

In 1982. I was working at 175 Fifth Avenue, The Flatiron Building in NY. One day as I passed the Pappermint Lounge on my way to the office, I saw a posting on the door that said George Thorogood and the Destoyers' video was to be filmed there Friday at noon. Be in a video for lunch. Friday arrived and I went, dressing specifically for the occasion.


Only kidding.

The live portions of this video were filmed in the Peppermint Lounge. There were a whole bunch of Gen MTVers there on their respective lunch hours. I bought a sandwich and, at certain times during the filming, snuck bites of it until I was finished. It was, after all, lunch time.


Still kidding.

Here is the video for George Thorogood and the Destroyers' bad to the Bone. See me at 2:35 but don't sneeze. Suffice it to say the appearance did not get me a SAG card or I wouldn't be here with you today.

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