I felt sadness and a profound sense of loss that a precious piece of New York is slipping away when I learned that the iconic rink at Rockefeller Center is scheduled for demolition in January 2021. It is classic New York sensory overload to skate here, with the magnificent Christmas tree shining rainbow colors above, and golden Prometheus forever falling to the ice at rinkside. Colored lights flash and bathe the ice in pink and blue, and sometimes the music from the Saks Christmas display across Fifth Avenue is so loud it drowns out the music at the rink, which seems to range between Christmas classics and funk.
When I read the news, I immediately went online and bought a ticket to skate at 6 PM every Saturday from November 21 to January 16. The first Saturday, the splendid 75-foot tall Christmas tree (which weighs 11 tons!) was in place, but not strung with lights. I went downstairs to the skating area right at 6 PM, pasted a yellow sticker from the ticket taker on my right leg, and rushed towards the rink. I was enchanted to see two angelic ice dancers in white costumes with fairy lights walking down the hallway to the dressing room ahead of me. I found a locker, put on my skates, and rushed onto the ice. The ice dancers were already out there, filming a video. They spun and twirled and swooped in the center of the rink for the entire time I was on the ice, which seemed to last only 20 minutes.
It was my first time on skates in a couple years, so it took the full 20 minutes just to warm up and feel less wobbly in the ankles, but still I soared past all the other skaters on the rink. I kept telling anyone who would listen, “I’m Canadian!” to explain my superior performance, possession of my own skates, and knowledge of ice grooming. The ice was a choppy mess, in fact. But I loved the feeling of gliding and tentatively trying out a few of my skating chops—switch to backwards skating for a few seconds, try a twirl in a quiet corner. And secretly wished I could skate like the ice dancers.
Because of Covid, the ice was socially distanced, meaning less crowded than usual, but it was still at the maximum allowed, filled with couples holding hands and trying to keep each other vertical, kids falling and skating in the wrong direction, and packs of people taking each other’s picture and blocking the flow.
Unfortunately, my mind kept finding fault with every little thing for the entire 20 minutes until I was told people wearing the yellow sticker had to get off the ice. Then the problem was that my miserable time had been cut short!
I went over to the skate rental return counter with my litany of complaints. I didn’t have any skates to return, having brought my own (because I’m a Canadian). But I complained about the quality of the ice and the short session, which was supposed to be an hour from beginning to end. After lodging my comments with the skate rental attendant, I waited for a manager, and then repeated the litany. The manager asked to see my yellow sticker, and my ticket, and went to investigate. It was the first day of rink operations, and the manager–let’s call him Tim, since that’s his real name–determined that an error had been made in the color of sticker I was issued. I should have received a blue sticker, not a yellow one. He said I could go back on the ice, but by now I had changed out of my skates. He said they were still working out the system but that next week would be better.
Then we turned to the matter of the ice. “The ice was a mess!” I said. “We cut it every few hours,” Tim said, clearly not realizing that this was completely inadequate. “I’m a Canadian!” I said. “I’m used to better ice.” He appeared to be quite sympathetic to my plight. I obviously knew what I was talking about, since I was a Canadian, and besides, I’d purchased eight tickets in advance.
He gave me the general manager Kristen’s business card, and said to email her on Monday. Which I did. I didn’t mention the fact that I was a Canadian, but my expertise in ice matters must have been convincing; by end of day she had changed my remaining tickets to the 7 PM session, immediately after the ice cleaning, which for some reason they call cutting here. That’s quite a stretch, considering the puddles of water everywhere on the rink. Their ice is not exactly cuttable!
The next Saturday, I knew the drill. I was first in line to go downstairs to the rink. Since I was the only one who brought my own skates (quite probably the only Canadian) I changed into my skates in a flash and was the first on the rink!!! For five minutes I had the rink to myself! I couldn’t believe it. The lights were on the tree, casting a magical glow. There were hordes socially distanced above on 49th Street, waiting for their timed visit to look at the tree. And here I was, circling round and round, the rink and the tree all to myself. I wept at my good fortune and craftiness. Finally I could relax. I had controlled the universe. And when others started to trickle and totter onto the ice, I smiled with fond benevolence. I was the ruler of the rink!
Check out my new video, “Crappy Skaters”!
P.S. They use an inferior ice cleaning machine called “Olympia,” perhaps in deference to Prometheus’s family. Every Canadian knows that Zambonis are the ice machines of the gods.
A seldom viewed deer-populated forest outside the dressing room
Iconic opening shot from Norman Lear’s All in the Family—a show that captivated us the entire decade of the 70s
“Boy the way Glenn Miller played…,” the man sang through his open Pontiac window. “I know what you’re doing!” He yelled, as he sailed past the graveyard and pastel-colored rowhouses.
I was standing in front of a tidy, light blue rowhouse with an American flag planted in the front yard and a year-round wreath on the door. Signs gave a personal greeting of welcome to visitors. This is one of the most famous houses in television history. Can you guess the show?
All in the Family was the background track to my formative years, running weekly right through the ’70s and taking me from childhood through puberty. It showed the turning of the times, and my family was following similar themes. I’m pretty sure my “Old Country” patriarchal father identified with Archie’s authoritarian approach to running a household, while my mother was younger and didn’t take to being called Dingbat. Which my dad did try to lay on my mother, more than once…
The Bunker house at 89-70 Cooper Avenue, in a triangle where the Queens neighborhoods of Glendale, Middle Village, and Forest Hills converge. Though Archie often identified his address as 704 Hauser Street in Astoria, Queens.
As ground-breaking as it was, I didn’t know that at the time. I did know that the consciousness-raising and changing awareness the show depicted seemed utterly natural. It informed my nascent world view, and has percolated through the years as a compass showing the way forward to equality. An interesting fact I just learned on Wikipedia is that Sally Struthers was dissatisfied with how static her character Gloria was, and sued to get out of her contract in 1974. As a result, her character began to grow in subsequent seasons. Life informing art!
This house is archetypal. The image is burned in our collective brain. I used to drive through neighborhoods in Vancouver looking for rowhouses like this.
So this show had an incalculable impact on me personally, but also of course on society as a whole. It expressed the Zeitgeist, and ranked number one in the Nielsen ratings from 1971 to 1976, becoming arguably one of the most influential comedic programs of all time, and certainly of that decade.
St. John Roman Catholic Cemetery with sun smiting the gravestones
When I first came to New York, I wanted to see the iconic house in Queens shown in the opening credits. But it is quite a trek to 89-70 Cooper Avenue. So I didn’t get around to making the journey to Glendale via the M train until February 21 of this year. Covid was in the air, and I felt an internal pressure to see the things in New York I’d been meaning to see before it was too late. I felt that life as I knew it was drawing to a close. There was so much uncertainty politically and with this new virus. I was considering returning to Canada, so on a cool, sunny Friday, I took the M train to the end of the line.
This definitely feels like the burbs. Bushes, parking lots, drive-throughs… And a link to Canada (Toronto Dominion bank).
It felt great to break out of my routine and see a part of New York I’d never been to. Though the show was set in Astoria, the opening credit scene of the camera panning over a row of houses was filmed on Cooper Street in Glendale. Both are neighborhoods in Queens. That image had been burned in my brain and represented something powerful about a way of life and an era, but also of my girlhood and a more innocent time.
Middle Village, Queens, on Cooper Avenue, with the graveyard behind
I didn’t know what to expect, but the neighborhood near the M train station was def the burbs. Small businesses, low buildings, a sense of space and openness. The route along Metropolitan Avenue led through a large graveyard, and I looked with interest at the names and dates on the stones…
Most of the older names in the graveyard are Polish and Italian. This is the Italian section.
At the far side of the graveyard I came to Cooper Avenue, cutting off at a bit of an angle. There was a business on the corner, which I scarcely noticed, and then a small lane, and then the famous row of duplex houses. 89-70 was the second row house. I began to cry as I stood in front of it. Though Google maps says it’s just a 27-minute drive from where I live in Manhattan, in my inner map it is both much closer and much further away.
DIY Car-4-Sale in Middle Village, Queens
It’s all bound up with countless family dinners in the house I grew up in on Portland Street, in Burnaby, BC, and our ’70s living room with black-velvet flocked wallpaper and orange and green velvet furniture. All the emotions of that time, and a father who is now deceased and forever out of reach. And a mother who is no longer a beautiful young blonde, but a woman in her 70s (still beautiful in a different way) with arthritis and cataracts, who just had a stroke.
Grimaldi’s – The New York Slice
It was quite a long trip, and it seemed silly to just turn around and go home again after a few minutes of singing and being sung to at the Bunker house. I walked back to the corner and noticed a pizza place. The sign said Open, though the place had a bit of a deserted, disarrayed air to it. I walked in and there were tables pulled out blocking the aisle, and I didn’t see a soul.
“Are you open?” I called out. A woman hurried to the door and said, yes, they were just cleaning the windows. The slice is a New York tradition, so I asked her if I could get a mushroom slice. I thought it would be like most pizza places, with some premade, precut pies.
But she yelled, “David!” and a young man came up to the kitchen from the basement. To my surprise, he started building a single-slice-sized pizza just for me. The place was called Victoria G’s Pizzeria, and I found out that this is the latest store opened by the famous New York pizza family Grimaldi’s. Wow, what a fortuitous day!
Colorful ceramic bunny captivates customers at the counter at Vicky G’s
There is no such thing as a hole in the wall, in any corner of the five boroughs, it seems. Every inch of the city is connected to history. I hadn’t heard the story before, but the owner Patsy Grimaldi (Victoria G is his daughter) learned to make pizza at age ten at Patsy’s Pizzeriea, his uncle Patsy Lancieri’s restaurant in Italian Harlem in 1941.
Victoria, for it was she, the eponymous owner, told me tales of the family’s Pizza Wars tangles with other pizza empires while the pizza baked in the coal oven and I sipped on high-end organic specialty white tea. Victoria was a talkative sweetheart, and she gave me another teabag to take home.
Frank Sinatra impersonator JJ Burton, David Grimaldi, and owner Victoria G.
Meanwhile, another guy came out and resumed work on cleaning the windows. This was none other than Frank Sinatra impersonator JJ Burton, who performs every Saturday night at Vicky G’s. He warmly invited me to come back the next night to hear his tribute to Sinatra and other classic rockers. Geez what a nice bunch of people.
And OMG, this was the best pizza I’ve ever tasted! Look at this shape. Completely unique. I’ve never seen anything like it. They use a judicious amount of a home-made mozzarella that’s divine—less chewy and more creamy than the usual. The herbs are heavenly. A smear of tomato sauce, just enough to add some zing. And then a handful of thin, fresh mushroom slices. I don’t eat pizza often so it is always a special treat, but this was something else. A glimpse into a better world!
This custom built single slice is enough for two meals! And so yummy.
It is especially poignant to recount this trip to you now, as this was one of the last carefree days in New York, about a week before our first recorded case of Covid-19 on March 1.
Boy the way Glenn Miller played. Songs that made the Hit Parade! Gee our old La Salle ran great. Those were the days…
Note: Three months later, CVS still has empty shelves where the toilet paper used to be. A new shipment comes in once a week and is immediately snapped up.
As I mentioned in my January post, my art exhibit is opening at the Revelation Gallery, at St. John’s in the Village, on March 3. Fr. Graeme Napier had the brilliant idea of bringing a synesthesia component to the opening reception by inviting musicians to perform 1-minute compositions for each of the 14 works of art. I love this idea! I often see color when I listen to jazz music, and I think it will be wonderful to enhance the experience of the artwork by adding the element of music.
Magical Musicians
Quite magically, musicians appeared and volunteered to perform for free, anchored by my dear friend and beautiful singer-pianist-composer, Hannah Reimann. What had seemed like an unimaginable leap into a new realm of artistic expression happened almost effortlessly, thanks to Hannah’s generous offering of her time and connections. I lined up musicians for each piece, and then made arrangements to rent a projector so I could display a large form of the miniature artwork on the wall behind the piano for people to see while the musicians played.
How Does It Taste?
This got me thinking about the other senses—taste, smell, and touch. I wasn’t sure I’d have enough time to make arrangements for everything by March 3, but it seemed like everything was coming together beautifully, including printing a new piece to include in the exhibit, “Bruce’s Handbag”! (See the January post.)
So I looked at the list of artwork I had prepared for the musicians, and began sensing into the flavors of each piece. I came up with some ideas of what the images evoked, and then began phoning around the neighborhood to source the food and drink. Of course I had to cover the basics as well—wine and cheese, water! After assigning those to the appropriate pieces, there was room to really play. This is the result:
longing
Hannah piano
Banana pudding
night
Steve piano
Licorice allsorts
paris
Steve
Cheese!
mindfuck
Aeon harp & percussion
Red wine
psyche
Aeon 3 voices
Electric Kool-Aid
1820
Hannah
Whipped cream
moonscape
Hannah
Silver star candies
clarity
Steve
Water
rain
Steve
Rootbeer
bliss
Aeon 3 voices + strings
Jelly bellies
nostalgia
Hannah & Steve duet
Blueberry port
oddity
Steve
Colored marshmallows
fade
Hannah
White wine
l’ouevre
Hannah
Crème brûlée mini cupcakes
I hope you’ll be able to make it to the opening to hear, taste, and see for yourself.
P.S. There will be surprising opportunities for the senses of touch and smell, as well!
2019 Goal List and my modelling comp card. Dusty Berke took the two photos on the right—my two absolute favorites of the year. Red pants photo by Morgen Purcell. Leopard photo by Zoë Pappis Schultz.
I just read an interesting article about creative geniuses. The key to great ideas like Edison’s light bulb, sublime music like Beethoven’s “odd-numbered” symphonies, and influential plays like Shakespeare’s Hamlet, is to be continuously working and creating. Not all ideas are good ideas, and not all works will bear fruit. But the people who have reached the pinnacle of success have been driven to create (in enormous quantity), for better or worse, and haven’t been afraid to fail.
As I look over the past year and my successes and failures, I am cheered by this perspective.
I worked at my “day job,” technical writing, for the first quarter of 2019, and then was lucky enough to spend the remainder of the year pursuing various interests and creative projects. I tried a lot of new things, and was generally happy with the results. Even when I may have failed (to live up to my idea of what I should achieve), I am still glad I gave it a try.
At the beginning of the year, I wrote down my goals for 2019 on a small piece of notepaper that I kept by my computer all year long. Every now and then I whited out some bits and added new items or details. I also took great joy in noting my progress on the goals and putting a checkmark beside the ones I accomplished.
Modeling
Modeling was the first item on my list. Although I didn’t have an agent, I had quite a successful first year as a model:
A monthly style column, Karen’s Quirky Style, in West Village’s beloved WestView News, with my picture appearing every month
A print ad for a local healthy juice restaurant, Juice & Joy
Related video and sandwich board ads
2 photo shoots for glossy fashion magazines: The Face and Vogue — both amazing experiences!
2 photo shoots for clothing designers, for use on social media: New York’s Engineered by Andrea T, and London’s sustainable swimwear designer Elliss Clothing (photographed by the fantastic Rosie Marks)
1 runway gig at the United Nations
3 photos of me were on exhibit in an art show at the prestigious Salmagundi Club, and one of them won an award
My friend Dusty Berke from WestView took this great photo, which won an award at the Salmagundi Art Club. Definitely one of my fave moments of the year, doing this shoot with Dusty.
I didn’t earn a wack of dough, but most of these gigs paid a bit, so I was actually paid for working as a model.
National Arts Club Membership
I fell in love with the National Arts Club (NAC) last year, when we had our graduation dinner there for the United Nations Association New York’s (UNA-NY) Worldview Institute leadership training program. I started attending their FashionSpeak Friday events, and set a goal of becoming a member. I put quite a bit of attention into creating a resume and application worthy of this institution, and with the help of two wonderful sponsors, Francis Dubois and Phillip Edward Spradley, I became a member on May 28, 2019!
Linda Zagaria, president of the National Arts Club. I wrote a story about Linda for WestView and Karen’s Quirky Style.
What a thrill. I attended a gala there honoring the best-selling and much beloved author John Irving. (I also attended a UNA-NY gala honoring those who have worked to end human trafficking. I was blown away by the enormity of this problem when I researched this subject for a story for WestView News.)
Ann Nicol, Executive Director of UNA-NY, and me, at the gala at Essex House on Central Park South. Gorgeous designer dress loaned by my friend Andrea, owner, designer, and creator of Engineered by Andrea T!
Photojournalist for WestView News
My byline is on the cover of WestView News!
This was not on my to-do list at the beginning of 2019, but WestView News became an enormous part of my life this past year. I researched and wrote more than 40 stories for them (which would make the State of California deem me an employee—one of the 2019 larger news stories that made all freelance journalists shiver). One of my stories was even a cover story! Thank you, George, publisher and dear friend. It was fascinating to interview people and write about them, and made me feel a happy part of the West Village community.
But more than that, I became friends with many people at the paper and feel like I’ve found another family here in New York. This has been a tremendous blessing in my life. I feel so lucky to contribute to one of the last remaining local Village papers in New York. (You may recall that the Village Voice closed in August 2018. Lincoln Anderson was fired from the Villager in October 2019, heralding a new era of schlock.)
Photography Course & Video Series
As I mentioned previously in a story about taking my friend’s portrait, I started an online Master Class with wizard Annie Leibovitz in the fall of 2018, and it was on my to-do list to finish the course in 2019. Aargh! Failure! I still have about 7 lessons left to do, and my membership expired.
Summer Piano in Washington Square Park was on exhibit at the Salmagundi Club!
But on the plus side, the course has been a huge inspiration, and I have had a few great impacts from the course:
My work was exhibited at the Salmagundi Club. (Picture shown above.) I learned about professional photo retouchers, printing, mounting, and framing. I was very happy with the result hanging on the wall.
I accompanied almost every published article for WestView with my own photos.
I did another class through the site, taught by Anna Wintour, and it was very inspiring. Main takeaway—be inspired by life around you. Hello, New York!
I also took a workshop on video storytelling through the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism at CUNY.
And Wow! I did 13 videos for YouTube in 2019. My goal was to do one a month to add to my New York Love Affair video art project, but I always feel like I’m neglecting my pet project. I guess I didn’t do too badly.
This was a very fruitful, creative part of my life and yet I feel like it is a demon, always chasing me to do more! I went through about 10,000 photos (from New York only) to find appropriate images to enter in the Greenwich Village exhibit at the Salmagundi Club. Of those, I entered six, and one was chosen. And didn’t sell. So I feel this tremendous urge to produce, but I don’t feel that I have succeeded fully. Partially, yes. It was a great honor to have my work accepted in the exhibit. (It was an item I added to the list partway through the year, when I received an email about it from Village Preservation.)
However, in March I have a solo exhibit for Shadow Play, phase four. We’ll see what happens there! (More details on that later.)
Shoebook.me
Failure! Or I’m not sure what to call it. This was a genius idea I had for social networking for shoes, Christmas Day, a week before I moved to New York. People like the idea, and I’ve got the domain name, built the site once and took it down, started again, and then abandoned it. I guess I am pulled in other directions. Perhaps I’ve lost my enthusiasm for shoes? [Moment to ponder additions to my shoe collection this year. Hmmm.]
My 75% successful shoe acquisitions in 2019
Honestly, I needed all of these shoes. Well, most of them…
Rubber boots to wear when I clean the shower with CLR
Two cool pairs of sneaks to wear while travelling in Scotland, London, and Paris
Wingtip brogues were actually a re-do; I stripped and painted these 70s-style platform boots for my David Bowie tribute performance at the NAC
Black flip-flops replaced an old pair, and I wear them all the time for doing errands around my building
Rainbow flipflops – cute mistake
Silver Margaux flats – just a mistake; I thought I could eventually like them, but it never happened. And I didn’t get any ad revenue from them, either! Moral of this story: never buy ugly shoes, even if you think they will be comfortable.
But I guess I have been following too many alluring tracks this past year to sit down and focus on shoebook.me. Maybe in 2020! I’m not putting it on the list, so don’t hold your breath.
Dance Parade
Yup! This was a lot of fun. I set the goal of participating, and couldn’t find anyone to go with me, so I joined another group and had an amazing time.
My butterfly costume for the Dance Parade. I danced with the exuberant, colorful, kinky House of Yes, a “performance fuelled” dance club in Brooklyn.
In addition, I’ve continued to study ballet at the world-renowned Joffrey Ballet School, and I took a couple of classes at Lincoln Center, taught by dancers from the New York City Ballet. What an amazing opportunity. Plus, of course, classes at Barre3 five times a week. When I had to stop running in 2018, I was worried about losing my figure, and also my sanity. I’ve managed to retain the former through Barre3, and found another family there as well. As for the latter, it might be highly over-rated!
New York Love Affair Website
This is another partial success. I had the domain name loveaffair.nyc for quite some time. When I first created the 20-minute video of excerpts from my New York Love Affair series for the Vancouver International Film Festival, I created the site to support the video series. But I never kept it up, so this year I folded it into this very website that you are looking at now.
My wild New York view from my favorite reading chair. Ah, autumn in New York!
I rebranded this site Wild Visions: Love Affair NYC. I didn’t want to lose the tremendous SEO I’ve achieved with the bcwildernessvisions URL, so I’ve kept it, and I point loveaffair.nyc to this site. I also revamped the graphic design a bit, and added an email sign-up option. Go ahead, sign up!
You won’t be inundated, as this is simply a monthly blog. If you want to dip into my New York doings from time to time, this is the place.
Total Blog Entries in 2019
I mentioned above that I wrote over 40 stories for WestView News in 2019. I also wrote lots of blog entries:
I would have to count this as a rousing success! Almost 50 blog entries. This is probably what gives me the most satisfaction of everything I do. But wait… Every time I sing I feel a mix of euphoria and angst (wishing I was better). And there’s nothing like the feeling of dancing freely to music that moves me…
This year I’ve continually asked myself the question what am I meant to do? What is calling my heart?
I’ve sung, danced, modeled, written, photographed, created videos, and in general explored my artistic passions to the fullest of my capacity within a given year. I love all of these activities. I guess there is no single answer to what satisfies the heart. Except, perhaps, a singular mystical answer about abiding in the mystery. So they say!
Friends and Family
Friends in wigs on Christmas Eve: me, Shawn, George, Dorothy, and Dorothy’s neighbor
The recap of the year wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the amazing richness I have in my life, of friendships and wonderful times with my family. My cousins Irma and Julie and Stephan visited New York and we saw many amazing special corners of New York. My Mom and I went to Arizona with my dear friends Sally and Bill, and I also went on trips with Deborah (Scotland) and Rosanna (Switzerland), plus dipped into London, Manchester, Paris, and Big Sur. Wow. Some friendships may have ended last year, but many wonderful new friendships have begun, and I am very grateful for the ongoing friendships with people in BC, New York, and around the world. Thanks especially to all the friends who came to hear my Bowie performance. That meant so much to me.
The focus of this entry was on creative flow, so I didn’t touch on everything I did this year, but of course there were also many fantastic cultural events and lots of fun time with friends. All of this gladdens my heart and brings more inspiration in a reinforcing cycle of creativity.
Where’s the Money?
You might have noticed that in the upper left corner of my notepaper list for 2019, I had written a high number. I didn’t earn anywhere close to that. Not even a quarter of it! True, I only worked at my day job for one quarter of the year. I had hoped that some of these various endeavors might have led to a new income stream. Not yet!
But I have always looked to my technical writing career to pay the bills. I didn’t want to put any strain on the creative stream to have to be successful. That way the creative expression can be pure joy and love. My art doesn’t have to suit other people. I don’t have to convince anyone of its merit. It’s 90% creative flow for its own sake, as an unstoppable source emerging from my being. But there’s still that 10% that hopes someone will like it!
I guess in that sense, it has been a successful year. I hope yours was too. Thanks for reading. And all the best to you in 2020. There is much possibility for hope and positive change in the new decade.
When I sold my 160-acre ranch in British Columbia, I thought I would never see Starshine Valley again. But my new friends (new at the time—now they are old friends!), Gary and Val, invited me to house-sit for them while they went on a long trip to Scotland. My art project Warhol in the Forest was born as a fun surprise for their return.
I subsequently wrote about my love of the Campbell’s Soup can, and keep coming back to this theme. The idea of bringing the Warhol project to New York’s Central Park has been simmering in the pot of my brain for a few years now.
Finally, this past Sunday, it was time. It turned out to be a special day, as you will see. Here is the result, my newest art project, “Warhol in the Park.” The original project entailed 28 images—the number of cans of Campbell’s Soup in Val and Garry’s cupboard. This time I’ve upped it to a nice round 30.
Our heroine humbly begins her journey here, on the shelf at CVS. The price in Vancouver in 1999 was $1.19 to $1.69.
Oh boy, the park! First a bite to eat. I was sitting on that shelf a long time.
Now a drink of water.
Aw, such cute friends. They gave me a good sniff, and now they’re ignoring me.
Good view from up here.
Transported to Paris.
I wonder if the park will ever have the budget for repainting.
WWI Mayor Mitchel, this is a beautiful, if unexpected, memorial.
Jigsaw puzzle perfect.
Ah, resting in a gnarly bole.
Hey, looking good! Well thank you, Mayor of Central Park.
What’s going on over there?
It’s the New York Marathon!
Protectors of the realm.
While the cat’s away…
No wait, there’s someone in there. Oops.
On the grid.
This is just so unexpected. An ancient urn with a bull in the forest.
A spaceship? No, it’s the Guggenheim.
Sun is setting in the park.
To the rescue.
I feel like I’ve been running forever. But it’s only 1.5 miles. Or is that 3.08? What the heck does this mean?
Ghostly night runners probably know what it means.
Art inside and out. The Seated II, bronze statue by Kenyan artist Wangechi Mutu.
Where did everybody go?
Warhol Splash
Time for a splash. OK, I’m done. Taxi!
Home James, on the M2 down Fifth Avenue.
Thank you for joining us on our day in the park. This 121-year-old can is good until July 18, 2021. She’s going to have some more adventures before the casserole.
I was honored to be granted membership to the National Arts Club in May, and this has opened up many new opportunities for friendship and creativity. One surprising outcome was the subject of this blog entry. I was chatting with another member in May, and we happened to talk about how we both like dressing as David Bowie occasionally. As you may recall, I have been at a few stellar events dressed as Bowie! The Orpheum Theater and the New York Marathon, as well as the Halloween Parade and the Pride Parade.
NYC Pride Parade 2019. Ziggy with the NYPD.
How it all began
My fellow NAC member, the painter David Krueger, mentioned that there would be a talent show for new members, and we decided to do a Bowie duet at the show. I started taking singing lessons, picking up on the singing dream I’d long held dear but abandoned in my twenties, when it was clear I was a better writer than a singer. Nonetheless, it felt great to be singing again, and I found a fantastically skilled, supportive teacher in Hannah Reimann, close by in the West Village.
I began to learn a few Bowie songs, and wanted to sing Life on Mars for the performance since I already had the blue suit. David liked the song too, but decided not to join me onstage after all. So I proceeded on my own. But this never would have happened without him, and for that I am eternally grateful!
Life on Mars
Little did I know that Life on Mars is a very challenging song for someone like me (an untrained newbie) to sing, partly because of the chord changes, and partly because of the speed of the lines in the chorus. There is very little chance to pause and reshape my mouth and throat for the high notes. It takes muscle memory and skill to make quick transitions, which I haven’t developed yet. I honestly had no idea that it would be so challenging to learn to sing just one song. I thought 4 months would be plenty of time. Easy peasy! haha
It also takes a long time to learn to consistently control the voice. Though I could get the notes just right in rehearsal, this doesn’t translate into glorious singing under the pressure of a live performance! Another aspect that was hard for me to learn was to really project my voice out to the audience. Like most people, I normally sing alone at home (or in the car), and what I am listening to is the sound of my voice inside my head. Where it really sounds great—powerful, tuneful, resonant! Hannah kept instructing me to imagine the sound reaching an audience in the distance, but when I sang louder it didn’t sound right inside my head.
The day of the show
On the day of the performance, I over-rehearsed in the morning. A rookie mistake! Hannah had very generously agreed to be my pianist for the performance, and even found a Mick Ronson-like glam outfit to wear. She and I had a short warm-up and rehearsal at the Club right before I went on. I realized to my dismay that my vocal chords were strained and sounded weak. Achhh. (German sound of disapproval and disgust.) As Hannah and I walked through the hallways and galleries and up the stairs to the main parlor, I was literally shaking. Total fight-or-flight response mode! Not a good thing for the vocal chords, as I am sure they were as tense as piano wire.
Taking the stage (the carpet, really)
Luckily, a number of dear friends were in the audience to support my debut, and their smiling faces helped me find the courage to sing the first notes. I had planned some simple choreography as well, and my costume was the Nazz. So I just jumped in and did it, and made it through to the end.
I felt a weird combination of conflicting feelings and sensations all happening at once. I felt afraid. I was exhilarated. I could feel the nerves thrumming along the skin of my arms, and I was remembering when to switch the mic from one hand to the other. I was recalling Hannah’s instructions on lifting the soft palate in preparation for “Mars.” I felt humiliated when some of the notes were wrong. I was looking at the audience (some of the time) to see how they were responding, and seeing a mixture of enjoyment and boredom. And I loved being there and performing. LOVED IT!!
This subset of the audience is Fellini-esque…
What I learned
It was a great learning to watch and listen to the recording of the performance (see below). I realized what Hannah had been telling me all along. I need to reach out and connect with the audience, overcoming my shyness about singing. This is something I’ve read that Bowie also had to do, early in his career. He wanted to write songs and create music, not go on stage, but he ended up singing in front of an audience (and becoming a legendary performer) because other people weren’t playing his music.
And of course I also learned that it will take many years of perseverance to learn to sing well. Who knows if I will ever make it in this lifetime!
But I continue to be inspired by David Bowie—the most lovable, creative genius earthling—and will keep learning and hopefully improving as time goes on. I am working on letting more of a powerful sound come forth. Stay tuned for my next performance!
For your viewing pleasure
I created three versions of the video of my singing debut, for audiences on different platforms and with different levels of interest in watching me sing. Really, one minute is all I feel I can ask of anyone who is not a member of my family!
Video footage recorded by Andrea Thurlow and Dusty Berke.
Square for Instagram
This one is under 1 minute (timed for an Instagram feed), and square to display well in Instagram.
Short YouTube Version Captures Highlights
This is the length for my Another New York Love Affair art project, where each video is usually under two minutes. It captures the feel of the event, with behind-the-scenes warm-up and a flash on the audience at the beginning.
Full Length
This is the full length of the song. It’s my singing debut, and my Mom might want to see the whole thing!
As I mentioned in my last post, this year I attended the famous Easter Parade in NYC on April 21, beginning at 10 AM at 49th Street and proceeding north to 57th Street. The parade ended at about 1 PM. I also watched the 1948 film, “Easter Parade,” with Fred Astaire and Judy Garland. This is a classical musical, with the song and dance numbers blending absolutely seamlessly into the story, in glorious color, with fun tunes by Irving Berlin. The grand finale is on Fifth Avenue, and this is where the Easter Parade takes place to this day.
Here are some photos of this year’s paraders:
Easter 2019
It was a glorious sunny day, and people were in a jubilant mood, as you can see. The man in the hounds-tooth jacket actually sang a few bars from “Easter Parade” to me! People were happy to pose in their festive finery, though I also captured a few candid photos on the subway and platform. It was a joyful day with the true Easter spirit of new life and growth bringing happiness to everyone’s hearts.
Each year on Easter Sunday, celebrants in New York don fantastical finery and show off their very best bonnets along Fifth Avenue. This year’s parade takes place on April 21, beginning at 10 AM at 49th Street and proceeding north to 57th Street, continuing until about 4 PM. This New York City tradition dates back to the 1870s, and anyone wearing a bonnet can join the parade. As you probably know, the best place to watch is from the area around St. Patrick’s Cathedral between 50th Street and 51st Street.
Macy’s Fashion Pods
In the weeks leading up to the parade, Macy’s has its annual Spring Flower Show at three New York locations. This year’s theme is a sci-fi spectacle called Journey to Paradisios, complete with “fashion pods,” alien trees, and a spidercrawler. Each location has different flower displays and events. This is the 73rd annual Macy’s Flower Show. According to Susan Tercero, executive producer of Macy’s Flower Show, “This year Macy’s Flower Show will take spectators on an incredible extra-terrestrial journey filled with wondrous sights, dazzling discoveries and unexpected experiences as we invite them to explore Paradisios. More than 1 million spectators in three cities nationwide will have the opportunity to experience this immersive floral world and be the first humans to set foot on this majestic planet.”
National Arts Club Bonnet Bash 2019
In a related event, the National Arts Club will be holding their Bonnet Bash 2019, “Carnival of Capital Sins,” on Friday, April 12, 8 PM to 11:30 PM. Tickets are $35, available on eventbrite.
Stay tuned to this page for photos from this year’s parade!
Alexandra Kargin, The Bomb, and Karen Rempel in spots
I’ve been attending FashionSpeak Friday events at the National Arts Club, ever since stumbling upon the Iris Apfel book launch (for Accidental Icon: Musings of a Geriatric Starlet) and award ceremony there, in May 2018. Suddenly a glamorous world of high fashion and style opened up before my eyes, and I knew I wanted to be part of it. I happened to be wearing fantastic Herchkovitch; Alexandre + Melissa clear vinyl platform shoes with flower cut-outs, and it appeared I fit right into the event, for people assumed I was part of it. (Actually, I’d been attending our graduation dinner for the United Nations Worldview Institute Executive Leadership Training, downstairs, that evening.) In any case, I was smitten with the National Arts Club, FashionSpeak Fridays, and fashion in general.
The Bomb’s shoes & socks. This man has style!
A few weeks ago I attended a leopard-themed event at NAC, in honor of International Women’s Month. The speaker was Jo Weldon, author of Fierce: The History of Leopard Print. She gave a very informative and fascinating talk, and the evening began with an amazing burlesque performance. What was most delightful about the evening for me was the prevalence of leopard prints, as New Yorkers love the chance to play dress-up. There were so many spots in that room that I thought I might have an epileptic fit.
Sole mates – zebras and leopards in harmony
FashionSpeak Fridays at the National Art Club are free to the public, so I like to go whenever possible. I just love the atmosphere at the Club, and the fashion events are truly inspirational. The Club, at 15 Gramercy Park South, is located in the historic Samuel Tilden Mansion. Samuel Tilden, the 25th Governor of New York, combined two mansions and gave them a complete redesign in 1863. Tilden hired Calvert Vaux, a famed architect and one of the designers of Central Park, to modernize the façade with sandstone, bay windows, and ornamentation in the Aesthetic Movement style. John LaFarge created stained glass panels for the interior of the mansion and glass master Donald MacDonald fashioned a unique stained glass dome for Tilden’s library that crowns the room where the bar is now located. This is truly one of my favorite places in New York to have a drink.
Bert Daniels, Karen Rempel, and part of Jo Weldon’s leopard print collection, with DJ in background – he mixed a lot of great jungle-themed tunes for the event!
In 1966, New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission declared 15 Gramercy Park South a New York City Landmark; and in 1976 the Federal government designated the building a National Historic Landmark. Of course the club has had many illustrious members, including three US presidents and many artists, writers, architects, and other creative geniuses.
Dusty, Alexandra, me, Anila, Nikki, and Bert at the Rose Bar, across Gramercy Park, after the event
The club is a great place to hang out, and I hope to be a member soon so I can lounge and dine in the gorgeous library and restaurant. The sparks of creativity in the atmosphere have landed in my heart, and ignited in my new role as Fashion Editor of the WestView News, the Voice of the West Village. As many of you know, I’ve been writing articles for the paper for a few years now. When I wrote a piece on the closing of the Cornelia Street Cafe (also discussed at length in this blog), the owner of the paper, George Capsis, said he’d like me to write, write, write for the paper. He invited me to HQ on Charles Street, and asked what I would like to write about. What came out of my mouth, with no forethought or foreknowledge, was the single word, “Fashion.” Wow! A revelation… My first fashion column came out in March, and the April edition is due out tomorrow, with the second column. You’ll see me sporting leopard there too!
