Category: Books

Tidy Tidbits: Culture Notes

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Not the Season But

You soon learn when you move here, that everyone refers to “the season.” The season runs from after Christmas through April and perhaps into May. It’s when the snowbirds fly south, all of the part-time residents are back, and the cultural season is in full swing. That said, although the season has not yet arrived, the pace has picked up, and there is a seemingly endless parade of local festivals and fairs, everything from chalk in Venice to blues in Bradenton. Recently, we enjoyed our first Sarasota Orchestra concert for 2015-16, the Sarasota Opera’s very fine production of “La Boheme” and the South Florida Museum’s annual Snooty Gala. Pianist Marc Andre Hamelin and the orchestra presented a memorable performance of Beethoven’s “Emperor” concerto along with two pieces by Shostakovich. An upcoming orchestra concert will feature violinist Leila Josefowicz whom we got to know during her years of study at the Curtis Institute.

On the Small Screen

These two TV series on PBS have ended or almost so, but I do think they are worth mentioning. In “Home Fires,” the focus is on the women in a small English town and their desire to help the war effort, but also on the rivalry for leadership of the Women’s Institute. Absorbing and convincing, it will immerse you in the daily lives of the villagers as tensions develop over the impending war.

The characters are many, the social and political alliances tangled and complex, and the accents sometimes thick, but “Indian Summers” is worth one’s time. Set in the early 1930’s at a summer retreat in the Himalayas, it depicts the waning power of the ruling British Colonials and the rising protest of the native classes. Both series are available on DVD.

On the Page

Empty Mansions: The Mysterious Life of Huguette Clark and the Spending of a Great American Fortune by Bill Dedman and Paul Clark Newell, Jr.

Some of you may recall the stir that was caused when Ms. Clark died at age 104 in 2011, and it was discovered that she owned several sumptuous properties preserved, but not lived in for decades.  They included a chateau style house in Connecticut purchased as a safe house, but never furnished and never visited. Raised in luxury in elegant surroundings on Fifth Avenue, Huguette Clark ended up living the last twenty years in a small, spare hospital room.

While occasionally reading like a sales catalog of fancy goods and art, this is both a lively family history (the first quarter details her father’s creation of a business empire the equal of the Rockefellers and his colorful, questionable career as a U.S. senator) and a fascinating account of this eccentric, strange, and yet generous woman.  Most of the people who worked for her or advised her never met her and dealt with her through letters or phone calls or via the few trusted individuals in her employ. She purchased dolls and art for her own enjoyment while giving away millions of dollars to staff and friends. Dedman’s co-author is Ms. Clark’s grandson and the inclusion of his phone conversations with Huguette shows a more personal side to this very private, secretive woman.

 

Winding Up New York: Mostly Food & Film

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For our last week in Manhattan, we sampled a few new restaurants and took in one more film.  We also had the pleasure of taking our granddaughter to pre-school one morning, more afternoon time at the playground plus a Friday night family dinner at Mario Batali’s super kid-friendly restaurant, Otto.  They have pizza and pasta dishes to please every palate.  Lastly, a visit to the new Whitney Museum.  More about that in a future blog.

Eating (A few more West Village spots)

I Sodi.  An early entrant on the West Village restaurant scene, this tight small space, bar on one wall and tables on the other, is wildly popular and deservedly so.  Their sage and ricotta ravioli were divine and the splayed Cornish hen grilled under a brick straightforwardly good.  The orange tart with chocolate gelato was the perfect finish.

Po.  A small Italian place, not as cramped as I Sodi, but equally good on the food.  Service here is polished and friendly and everything a notch up from some other small restaurants. Duck ragu over long pasta and the linguine con vongole were both superb as was the beautifully presented goat cheese tartuffo over slivered endive and radicchio.  Reservations here are accepted 30 days in advance; we got in the same day only because of a phone cancellation moments before!  Beginners luck, you might say!

Piadina. Another West Village cozy Italian dining spot with a slight tilt toward seafood.  The sole accompanied by broccoli rabe and slivered endive with cherry tomatoes was lovely. Short menu and friendly staff.  Cash only.

Malatesta. This became our neighborhood hangout where we ate three times!  Crowded, noisy, and very popular, with indoor and sidewalk seating.  We liked their homemade pastas and the salads. Go early for a seat inside and remember they too only take cash!  Strange to me in this age of cards for everything, but there’s an ATM 2 doors away.

Watching

The Martian.  Space movies are not my usual cup of tea, but I was persuaded to see this one and was glad I did.  From the opening scenes, I was captivated.  We paid the extra for the 3D glasses which put you right in the red Mars scape, but the film would still be good without them.

It is an intelligent film that portrays astronauts who are well trained and who think creatively.  Matt Damon, as Mark Watney, dominates the screen with his amazing ingenuity coupled with a nice guyness, a sense of humor and a let’s get on with it can-do attitude. Combined they make his dire situation bearable and engaging for the audience.  The crew who unknowingly leave him behind alive are a dedicated and perhaps unbelievably harmonious team.  Note that the mission commander is a woman, Capt. Lewis, played by Jessica Chastain.  The technology that Watney, the crew, and the ground staff have at their disposal is impressive, but it is still nail biting time as the days pass by and a rescue has not yet happened.  As a viewer, I knew what the ending had to be, but it’s a long tense time getting there.  See it!

Reading

Not My Father’s Son by Alan Cumming.  I have enjoyed watching Cumming as the manipulative Eli Gold on “The Good Wife,” am bemused at his dramatic way of introducing “Masterpiece Mystery,” and had known a bit about his other acting roles and that he performed at Feinstein’s in New York.

I found this, his memoir of his childhood and what he learned about his absent maternal grandfather and his father, a searing read.  He is honest and brave and unstinting in his portrayal of his more vulnerable, injured self.  Severely abused both physically and emotionally by his father, it’s a testament to his own spirit and to his mother’s love that he was able to emerge in middle age relatively whole and intact.  I got so caught up that I read it through in less than a day.  And, by the way, Cumming is a very good writer—graceful and nuanced, even when describing awful events.

Header photo:  www.kimberlybelle.com

Culture Notes: Monet, Murder & Identity

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Sometimes one comes upon the most enjoyable books or movies by happenstance and other times it’s on the recommendation of a friend.

While I was in Philadelphia at the Barnes Foundation, I picked up a novel about Claude Monet called, Claude & Camille by Stephanie Cowell. Published in 2010, it’s a fascinating portrait of Monet’s early life with his wife Camille and the close friendships between him and Renoir, Pissarro, and particularly Frederic Bazille. These Impressionists (only dubbed so later on) worked against tradition and, hence, their works were unpopular and frequently did not sell.

Monet and Camille lived hand-to-mouth while he refused to take on any kind of normal job and she periodically worked to provide some limited funds. They regularly depended upon the kindness of friends, most often Bazille whose family had money. Add in Camille’s unstable temperament and Claude’s frequent absences and you have lives fraught with tension and distance. Success was slow in coming.

Cowell’s novel is historically based, but with a novelist’s license she has elaborated on the relationship between Camille and the other artists. Cowell also captures, some might say lovingly, the process of putting paint to canvas and creating color and light. One knows precisely which paintings they are without her ever giving the reader their titles.

A friend gave me a copy of a mystery she and a colleague co-authored. Set in Bethlehem, founded in 1741 and now a charming city in Pennsylvania’s Lehigh Valley, The Body in the Vat: Tales from the Tannery by Charlene Donchez Mowers and Carol A. Reifinger is light fare, short and fun. It will appeal to anyone who knows the city (lots of familiar venues from the Colonial Industrial Quarter to the Moravian Book Shop) and to others curious to learn more about Bethlehem’s Moravian heritage.  Proceeds are being shared with Historic Bethlehem Museums & Sites and the 275th Anniversary Committee of Moravians in Bethlehem.

Another friend recommended that we see Phoenix and we were not disappointed. This is a seriously good, serious German film about identity and betrayal and the heart. Getting out of the concentration camp after the war, damaged physically and emotionally, Nelly needs reconstructive surgery on her face. Although pressured to have a new look, she asks to look like she did before. After surgery, she sets out to find her husband who does not recognize her. Practicing with him to become herself, she embarks on a journey that is both disturbing and poignant. Who are we really? What is it that marks our unique identity? And why do we continue to trust in the face of betrayal? Dark and haunting, this is a film that lingers long after the last credit has rolled.

Header photo:  Monet’s Springtime (1872) from Google art project.jpg

Booknote: Dance & Detectives

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Since I’m traveling, my reading gets a bit neglected, but here are two recent book recommendations I’m happy to share.

Astonish Me by Maggie Shipstead. Shipstead is the author of Seating Arrangements and this is her second novel. It takes the reader into the somewhat cloistered world of ballet. The main character is Joan, who had a short-lived career as a ballerina and then left when she realized she wasn’t good enough. She marries and raises a son. Her compatriot Sandy with whom Joan has a somewhat ambivalent relationship, makes a career as a dancer. Added to this mix is a Russian dancer whom Joan helped to defect. Stir in some other complex relationships—that of Joan with her husband and son and that of Joan and Sandy with the defected dancer and you have lots of interplay. I liked this book the farther along I got and had figured out the “surprise” revelation.

To Dwell in Darkness by Deborah Crombie. This latest mystery is one of Crombie’s best in my opinion. Very up-to-the-minute with its themes of environmental activism and potential terrorist threats, it brings together British detectives Gemma Jones and Duncan Kincaid and several of their colleagues from earlier books to solve two crimes. When a protest in the busy St. Pancras train station results in an unexpected death, there are questions of suicide, murder, an unintended victim, and multiple threads to unravel. What I especially like about Crombie’s mysteries is that even the secondary characters (the other detectives, for example, and Jones and Kincaid’s children) are well fleshed out and you get a portrayal of the daily life of these people when they are not tracking down or interviewing a suspect.