I have been continuing a great love affair with this city. Every corner I turn, something falls into place -- a little haven of trees, chairs, and falling water, surrounded by skyscrapers, so I can eat my hasty lunch in relative peace. The entrance of the MOMA blinking at me in welcome as I cross the street, wondering if I am going in the right direction. Babies running through a fountain in Battery Park on the south tip of Manhattan, escaping their nannies, sticking their heads into the water and screaming at the unexpected force of the stream.
Lights change as soon as I reach a corner, so I can walk quickly from block to block, admiring the window displays and the rapidly changing crowds -- office workers on their lunch breaks, tourists, street hawkers. I stop at Lincoln Center to check out the operas and ballets playing this week (perhaps my Middlebury student ID will come in handy) and discover that the MET Opera is conducting their free "Opera in the Park" series; Faust will be playing at Prospect Park in Brooklyn on Tuesday night. Andrea arranges for Ben and I to attend a dramatic performace for free. I love being a tourist in New York!
I realize the city is not revolving around me, but it is nice to luxuriate in such a thought -- as when I stepped into the Klimt-Kandinsky-Chagall-Kirchner room at the Museum of Modern Art and felt the stars align. In Tucson, I had selected my favorite artists to place together in my classroom, and here again they were, arranged by the best curators in the world: Gustav, Wassily, and Marc, winking at me with love.
It struck me as I wandered how much of a modern art buff I am, as other favorites appeared: Cezanne, Picasso, Matisse. I love the old school modern art, not the new Minimalism and Post-Structuralism, that allows artists to paint canvasses black or leave them untouched and call it a revolution.
The new MOMA building has open, white walls ending in floor to ceiling windows; these open out onto the city to let in reams of white light, the space of the place as much art as the works themselves.
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3 comments:
ooh, i got a cameo! :)
I still can't believe you were at the Met in the Park in NYC and then I was at the one in NJ a few days later! I really think we're long-lost twins, T. But you didn't talk a lot (at all?) about the opera itself. Wowie, what lush music, what glorious use of each section of the orchestra, what perfect text-painting, what characterizations! I don't usually hear the music of an opera the first time through, but Faust I did. And even when shivering under wraps and sitting awkwardly on the ground. Love it! Let's go together next year....
I miss New York already. I'm already planning my return in two years and I haven't even moved out of my apartment yet.
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