Category: Manhattan

Manhattan Moments

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MOSTLY HEARTWARMING

We missed seeing this film at the Sarasota Film Festival and so were pleased to catch it here in Manhattan. The Man Who Knew Infinity is based on events in the life of genius mathematician, Srinivasa Ramanujan. Ramanujan was a poor man from Madras with no formal education who saw the world in numbers, patterns of numbers and equations. No one in India understood his work, but a colleague referred him to one of the professors at Cambridge University. The film portrays the prejudice, academic jealousy, and indifference he faced while at Cambridge, initially even from his sponsor, Professor Hardy. Dev Patel of “Marigold Hotel” fame is engaging as Ramanujan and Jeremy Irons plays the condescending, socially clueless Hardy. Interwoven with Ramanujan’s amazing story is an appreciation for the beauty and elegance of complex math. Ramanujan’s work is still being used today.

Colorful plate at Santina
Colorful plate at Santina

EATS

We have some favorite restaurants in the West Village, but are attempting to broaden our scope and intersperse some new ones midst the familiars.  So far there are two new places which we’d definitely recommend.   Rosemary’s serves breakfast, lunch and dinner, and we were there for dinner. It’s a bare wood floor, bare wood tables room with lots of glass and a lively (somewhat noisy) vibe. The food is what I’d call rustic Italian and there were some different (read not ordinary) dishes on the menu. Especially lovely was the linguine with preserved lemon, Parmesan, and a bit of chili; the lemon really provided some zing.  Also good was the shrimp starter with jalapeno, mint and breadcrumbs. Our waiter was a very pleasant young man from Minnesota.

We also sampled the Brazilian cuisine at Berimbau, a tiny, very casual restaurant that makes up in friendliness what it lacks in space.  The Chief Penguin is a fan of caipirinhas, the de facto national drink of Brazil, and immediately ordered one which he pronounced most satisfactory!  We had the fried calamari (not exactly Brazilian) and the chicken stroganoff (apparently stroganoff with poultry is more popular than the traditional beef) and the tropical salmon served with rice with diced vegetables.  Both were very good.

We also went back to Omar’s, Santina, and Frankie’s, all restaurants we’d enjoyed previously. Omar’s was quiet and lovely, Santina a very happening loud, but delicious, venue in the Meatpacking District, and Frankie’s, also very popular, where I had some of the lightest and best gnocchi I’ve ever had anywhere!  Given the demographics of this neighborhood, we are becoming accustomed to being the oldest folks in the dining room.

G NOTES

One of the joys of this stage of life is spending time with grandchildren. We are now blessed with two girls, one almost 4 and the other a mere 6 weeks old. There is nothing quite so soothing as sitting with a small baby snug against your chest, her heart beating against yours as she snoozes, occasionally emitting little squeaks. F. spent two hours asleep like this as I sank deeper into the couch.

E. can be a motion machine, but lately she has been content to sit close to me or her grandfather, always in physical contact, for a story or conversation.  She is also drawn to Grandpa’s shirt pocket from which she can pluck a few Cheerios. This week I got to see her and about seven other girls and one little boy in action at their ballet class. The girls all in leotards or tutus, still one moment, twirling or jumping the next. There is a mirror so the parents can watch the proceedings without being seen.  Fun.

 

Photos by JWFarrington (some rights reserved)

Tidy Tidbits: Bits & Bites

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THOUGHT-PROVOKING THEATER

We were at the first preview performance of Asolo Rep’s production of Disgraced and it was excellent!  Ayad Akhtar’s Pulitzer Prize winning play is simultaneously hard-hitting and nuanced about issues of race and religion.  Amir, a young lawyer on the track to partner, has hidden and, to a great extent, set aside his Pakistani and Muslim roots.  His wife, Emily, is a white artist; one of his law colleagues a black woman; and her husband, Isaac, the art curator promoting Emily’s work, is Jewish.  Add to this mix Amir’s Muslim nephew who arrives with first one request for legal help and then later a second one.  How this initial request impacts Amir and Emily’s marriage and then leads to an explosive dinner with Isaac and his wife is the stuff of uncomfortable theater, but uncomfortable in a good way because it makes you squirm and ponder your own reactions and behavior. If you have the chance to see this play, do!

ON THE SMALL SCREEN

I’m currently in love with a very finely drawn Australian drama series set in a small town near Sydney in 1953.  Entitled, A Place to Call Home, the lead, Sarah Adams, is a widowed nurse new to town whose interactions with the townspeople and the ruling Bligh family are cause for consternation.  Sarah is Jewish and has not shared her past nor her activities during WWII.  Elizabeth Bligh, the matriarch, is determined to run Sarah out of town despite her son George’s involvement with her.  Add in matters of social class (as in who is a suitable mate for Elizabeth’s granddaughter, Anna), homosexuality (best kept secret and viewed by most as a condition that can be corrected), and lingering resentments from the war, and you have all the elements of a family saga in a time of change.  As a bonus, the accompanying score features popular songs of the period.

The series is available from Acorn which means it isn’t free, but definitely worth either purchasing a season at a time or subscribing to all of Acorn’s appealing offerings.  And, no, I’m not on Acorn’s payroll!

SHORT FICTION

I am not a big fan of short stories (probably should be), but do occasionally nudge myself to read them.  Most recently, I’ve been dipping into Elizabeth Tallent’s latest collection, Mendocino Fire.  Tallent is a professor of creative writing at Stanford and this is her first collection in 20 years, which is perhaps why her name was not familiar to me.

Her stories are peopled with individuals who are vulnerable and occasionally broken involved in relationships that sag and sometimes unravel.  Here’s 48-year old David  in “Tabriz” reflecting while in conversation with his third wife:  “In his work, he’s a good listener.  More than that he solicits the truth, asks the unasked, waits out the heartsick or intimidated silences every significant lawsuit must transcend.  Someone has to ask what has gone wrong, and if the thing that’s gone wrong has destroyed the marrow of a five-year-old’s bones, someone has to need that truth or it will never emerge from the haze of obfuscation.  Of lying.  But this isn’t work.  This is his wife.”  These are good stories.

MANHATTAN INTERLUDE

We were in Manhattan over the weekend meeting our new granddaughter and chanced upon what turned out to be a great addition to our restaurant repertoire.  Located on W. 9th Street, Omar’s combines a busy bar scene (we might have been put off by the crowd and the noise on this late Thursday night) with a pleasant, and mostly empty when we arrived, dining room.  We sampled some light bites and found the hamachi tostados with avocado to be excellent, also the marinated Parmesan chunks with Marcona almonds and truffle oil, mounds of burrata with lightly dressed strands of jicama, and the octopus.  Definitely a must for a return visit!

Header image:  Spring in Manhattan (copyright JWFarrington)

New York: Wonderful Whitney

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On our last full day in New York, we made our first visit to the new Whitney Museum of American Art (to give its full name). Now located in the Meatpacking District a short walk from our apartment, it is in a stunning new building by Renzo Piano. For anyone who is familiar with Renzo’s other work, there are some recurring elements: lots of glass, metal staircases both internal and external, a public space on the roof, and a creative use of natural light. [I take the liberty of using his first name since I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know Renzo a bit in San Francisco and have visited him in both Paris and Genoa.] He was the architect for the California Academy of Sciences (2008) in Golden Gate Park and The Shard (2013) in London.

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The lines for entry were long, but you can bypass them if you buy your tickets online or, like we did, buy a membership. With all the time we plan to spend in New York, it seemed a wise investment.

 

 

 

 

An exhibit of works by Frank Stella had just opened and we did that first. Colorful paintings and almost ornate sculptures, sometimes of found objects, dominated the galleries. These were all large works. Outside were several complex star sculptures, one metal and one made of wood.

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The museum overlooks the High Line so while outside you can gaze down and watch the never-ending stream of casual walkers, commuters, and tourists.

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The other exhibit we spent time in was a retrospective of the works of Archibald Motley (1891-1981), an African American artist who painted the jazz scene as well as portraits of black society, both high and low, in 1920’s and 30’s Chicago. I had never heard of Motley nor seen any of his works and was drawn in by the intensity of his images and his use of strong vibrant, almost neon, colors. Unfortunately for me, the works I wanted to photograph were the ones where no photos were permitted.  But here is an example I found on the web.

NightLife. 1943 (https://maryckhayes.wordpress.com)
NightLife. 1943 (https://maryckhayes.wordpress.com)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Book of the Week

The Wall St. Journal reviewed it several weeks ago and the NY Times this past Sunday. The book is Becoming Nicole: The Transformation of an American Family by Amy Ellis Nutt. This is the absorbing, painful account of one young boy’s journey to becoming a female. Wyatt was one of two identical twins adopted by Kelly and Wayne Maines. From the age of two, Wyatt, unlike his brother Jonas, preferred dolls and girlish things. In a few years, he began to articulate his dislike of his “male parts” and his preference for female clothes and referred to himself as a “girl boy.” Eventually his parents allowed him to legally change his name.

This book is as much her parents’ story as it is Nicole’s. Her mother was tirelessly supportive, preparing teachers for her then son’s differences, getting him into counseling, seeking appropriate medical help, and then being there for Nicole to ensure her safety and emotional well-being as she outwardly and publicly became more of a girl. For her father, who envisioned teaching both his sons to hunt and shoot (pastimes he enjoyed growing up), the journey was a struggle and he left a lot of it to his wife. Over the course of Nicole’s growing up (she is now college age), society evolved and there is the beginning of greater acceptance of transgender individuals. Some of this change is due to a lawsuit filed by the Maines. All parenting brings a set of challenges, but these parents had an especially complex situation to navigate. Nutt’s inclusion of the latest studies on gender identity is helpful contextual information.

 

[Photos by the author unless otherwise indicated; some rights reserved]

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