Smoke Art...

It won't get you high but it might blow your mind. That is what I was thinking as I was reading Roberta Smith in the New York Times writing about Cai Guo-Qiang's work at the Met. One of the pieces, Clear Sky Black Cloud, is viewable from one of my favorite places on the Upper East Side and although I am in a hurry to get there I am not in a hurry to tell you where there is. I mean if I tell you then you'll tell someone and then they'll tell someone else and then this place that I revere as one of the last bastions of contemplation will be overrun by the scourge, other people. Oh well, it's already been written about in the Times so everyone is going to go anyway. The place is the roof sculpture garden at the Metropolitan Museum http://www.metmuseum.org/home.asp What you can see from there now besides spectacular Central Park views is everyday at noon except Mondays this inspiring yet transient art that Mr. Guo-Qiang's has created, a firework exploded in the ether letting loose a small black cloud. As I was in a hurry, I skipped by Mayor Bloomberg's digs on 79th Street and wondered since he was not using Gracie Mansion if he might let me use it since I will soon be looking for a new apartment, but that's another story altogether. Anyway, I get to Fifth Avenue and realize I won't make it through the catacombs of the Met to the roof garden in time for the "performance" , so I head toward the back of the museum on the outside, Cleopatra's Needle, watching me meander. It's 11:58 and I ready my trusty digital and point it skyward. At exactly noon, three short pops that sound like gun shot and make me and everybody else duck, go off. I stand up and steady myself and click the photo of the black whisp-cloud that rises like a snake tongue into the blue sky. It's cool! It's gone. I stare at the black cloud frozen in all it's digital verve on my camera screen. Who knew that a small black cloud could be so captivating? Tomorrow I will watch it from the roof garden if it isn't too crowded...

De La Vega Visions...

I was bored so I decided to take a walk, not knowing where I was going but knowing I had to go, get out. It's Spring in New York and so far so good, the blossoms are out, the tulips and daffodils bloomed and everybody's wearing much less clothing, much to my delight. I decided to stop at Starbucks for a latte to put a little fire in my stride. I was pulled north on First Avenue and took a left on 82nd Street passing Manhattan New School where my daughter spent 1st- 5th grade. A fantastic public school that right now is in the throes of controversy due to the desire of a developer to build a condo across the street from it. MNS feels that long term construction would interrupt the educational process there. I kind of think it would, too. I walk on reminiscing my daughter's elementary school years and sip viciously at my caffeine panacea. I am pulled northward and pass another soon to be construction site at the corner of 86th and Third Avenue. Here I have an idea, I decide that if a huge high rise is indeed going to be put here, why not force the developer to put a quality theatre or performing arts hall at the bottom? I've always thought the Upper East Side needed such a space for theatre, dance, etc. because it seems to be the only place in Manhattan that doesn't have a quality performance space. I start to dream of the world class space and as I look down at my feet I see the fantastical chalk drawing that is shown above, with the words 'Become Your Dream'. The drawing is a sidewalk chalk sketch done by James De La Vega, an artist, who has been decorating the sidewalks and various thrown away objects with his whimsical chalk drawing on the Upper East Side for a long, long time now. He constantly entertains me but now this particular sketch and statement has entered a more surreal area of my brain, this instant karma might push me to even start a petition, contact Bloomberg or lobby some of the many rich and famous who live in the neighborhood, who wouldn't mind having their name attached to such an artistic endeavor. Is this a sign? I down the rest of my latte and pull out my trusty digital and snap the pictures so I will have something to remind me of this dream. I walk away with visions of red carpet, paparazzi and kleig lights signaling another opening night, not on Broadway, but on the Upper East Side...

Hungarian Hungry...

Read this article about the Hungarian way of life on the Upper East Side by Joseph Berger in the New York Times, Memories Fueled by Strudel, and suddenly got hungry for goulash. So I took a walk to search out the creamy stew. The Meat Emporium on 81 St Street and 2nd Avenue was my destination and as I walked up 2nd Avenue I started to imagine this as the Little Budapest it was once known as, complete with wafts of paprika, strudel and goulash. At the Meat Emporium, the ultimate Hungarian butcher, I bought some beef goulash and headed for Central Park where I would eat the desired repast. All along the way, carrying the fragrant stew, people stared at me suspiciously, the aroma of the goulash and the paprika blazing a trail to Central Park where I sat on a bench at the 79th Street entrance and dipped my plastic spoon into the culinary delight. An older woman sat by me and looked with wet hungry eyes as I feasted. 'Looks good,' she said in an Eastern European accent, 'Don't tell me, let me guess, the Yorkville Meat Emporium?' she guessed. I nodded astounded by her olfactory intuitiveness but I did not offer her any. Goulash isn't something you share. I ate more quickly, scarfing the beefy morsels and slurping the sauce. She stood and left. I felt guilty but finished off the last of the stew and stood satiated, ready to go see the Klee show at the Neue Galleria. Klee I'm sure liked goulash. But this was more than enjoying the food and it was better than going to a museum it was experiencing a different world, just one of the many you can experience on a walk around the block on the Upper East Side...

Cool Cat

I didn't think I'd cause a dog-cat fight with my first blog. That's what I get for putting a picture of a dog in the blog, especially a dog wearing a Woozie Wear rain jacket www.uppereast.com. Cat lovers want recompense. Equal time! So I present the coolest cat on the Upper East Side, Botero's Cat or Gato on 79th and Park Avenue. Yes, art is everywhere these days, The Biennial at the Whitney, Klee at Neue Gallery, David Smith at The Guge and finally where I was walking when I took the picture of the cat, Goya at the Frick Museum. I am going to Goya to see his last years of paint but what I am most interested in are some ivories that he painted on that have been described to me as having inner light. And I need some inner light after witnessing my daughter dancing to a song by The Black Eyed Peas, a group that I like very much, but seeing my 11 year old dancing and singing, 'my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump..." proved to be a bit alarming. I can't tell her to stop singing and dancing. So escape to inner light is the only answer. The Frick Museum on Fifth and 70th Street was built in 1913 for industrialist Henry Clay Frick. The old mansion turned museum gleans opulence that defies description, so I won't describe it. Seeing the Goya's especially the ivories makes my day and makes me forget cat-dog fights and little girls dancing to the Black Eyed Peas. Mission accomplished...