Weekend NYC

It truly was a New York City weekend. After living in the New York City metropolitan area for almost four months, I finally did something more than just dine, drink coffee or walk around. The weekend started out waiting in line at the discount ticket booth in Times Square for tickets to a Broadway play. I had my heart set on (and fingers crossed) for "Speed-the-Plow" and after waiting in line outside in the cold for an hour (I'm getting used to standing in Times Square in single digit temperatures) my fingers were rewarded.

The rest of the afternoon was spent walking around the Upper West side and stopping in at Cafe Lalo for a sandwich (eggplant and goat cheese!), a cappuccino, and a slice of apple pear raspberry pie. Then off to Broadway. The last time I went to a Broadway show was five years ago--and it was "42nd Street." While the musical was lovely and fun, "Speed-the-Plow" was perfect--hilarious, thought-provoking and thoroughly entertaining. Jeremy Piven had already left the cast due to "mercury poisoning" but his replacement, Norbert Leo Butz, was fantastic. The fast paced dialogue and short scenes made the 90 minutes fly by, and Mamet's moral ambiguity gave me things to think about all night (and the next day).

Sunday morning meant mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral with Cardinal Eagen and then the Museum of Modern Art. The goal was to see the Van Gogh exhibit but tickets were sold out. No matter though, the next two and half hours were filled with wandering through the floors of MOMA enjoying some of the pieces and trying to make sense of others. Some aspects of modern art really appeal to me--especially if a piece is clever, brightly colored, or functional. Other aspects, do not--the eerie flickering films, the muted paintings of disfigured babies, or layers of Vaseline formed into a "box". I also found some of the pieces annoying--a canvas painted red doesn't seem to require that much artistic talent. However, as a friend and partner-in-weekend NYC-crime pointed out, the thing that made that red canvas "art"--or at the very least, worthy of its space in the museum--is that the artist even conceived to do it. Yes, I am perfectly capable of painting a canvas red, but that thought of expression would never have crossed my mind without my having seen it hanging in a museum.

The weekend ended back in the Jersey with the lovely lady of Papermoon, whose back in Chicago. And who I miss much.

...Weekend Anna.