Waterways

The East River Ferry is like the Caribbean Cruise Liner of Gotham – especially on a perfectly glorious sunny day. From 34th street the boat zigzags across to Long Island City and then south to Williamsburg, the Brooklyn Bridge, Wall Street and Governor’s Island. Riding on top of the boat yesterday with the wind in our hair and Manhattan receding in the background, the Liner’s advertising mantra of ‘discovering new lands’ was strangely appropriate, even though Brooklyn was our destination.

Brooklyn is not what is used to be. The shoreline either side of the bridge has been transformed from decaying dockland to a cleverly developed green playground, with trees and playing fields and bike paths. There are swings and skating rinks, basketball and barbecues, and the landscaping has a hill and dale effect, courtesy of the mountains of rock extracted from the underground extensions to the 2nd avenue subway line. But best of all, the Brooklyn Bridge Park has art.

The Public Art Fund, under the cutting edge vision of Australian Nicholas Baume, is showcasing the fun and interactive work of Denmark’s Jeppe Hein. This multimedia artist has created psychedelic seats in impossible positions with breathtaking views, a maze of mirrors reflecting the world inwards and outwards, and a water feature that will probably be the singularly most popular destination in NYC this year. Appropriately named Please Touch the Art, this room-like feature shoots walls of water into the air seemingly at random, rising and falling almost as if the artist was at the controls, intent on drenching that little child just as they stepped cautiously into the space. The shrieks and laughter corresponded to being caught and by the end of the day everyone was dripping wet. As we sailed away all the cooler for the experience I wondered if they shouldn’t rename the exhibition Try To Resist!

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The Whitney and beyond

After seeing the latest Mad Max film, riding through downtown traffic did not seem nearly as scary as it usually does. There were no firebombs, maxed out Monaro’s, sandstorms, or hideous toothy tyrants to deal with. But our destination, the Whitney, did have a collection of curiosities worthy of a simultaneous launch.

The new Whitney opened earlier this month having relocated from the company of the traditional Museum Mile to the hip and happening Meat Packing District. Cement, steel & glass give the museum a formidable presence but also allow it to somehow blend into the ambiance of the docks. On one side the High Line weaves under the trendy Standard Hotel and over the remains of the old butcheries. On the other a calming vista stretches out over the Hudson. Both sides enable real people to take advantage of the view, while inside the museum, building blocks of space display headless museum staff and waxy figures patiently waiting for the lights to change.

Modern American art, from Hoovers to Edward Hopper, can make us grateful for the architecture it inspires ( Renzo Piano also designed the Pompidou Center in Paris ). But some artists are completely mobile without need of permanence, they can hang at the MET in the mornings and then be on view at The Whitney in the afternoons. Such is the case with Lynx Alexander – or Gary to his friends. Distinctly attired in a black suit and twisted airborne tie, Gary wears his wayward art with a practised nonchalance. Maybe it’s the actor or the model in him. But talk to this creative allrounder and you will find he also works with pianos. Not wearing them, but painting them. Harry Connick Junior is a client and he is artist-in-residence at Steinway. Who knows, with his mobile multiplicity, Gary may be destined to join the next Road to Fury….

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An Australian New York moment

You never know who you will run into in this city… and I was only going out for a coffee….

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Saving Place

Protest, protest, protest, was the only way to stop Carnegie Hall from being pulled down in the late fifties and replaced with a red enamel office tower. Can you imagine? Isaac Stern, the famous violinist saved this New York Institution as did Jackie Kennedy save Grand Central. Everyone was too late to save the original very grand Pennsylvania Station, as well as many of the art deco theaters on Broadway. The only saving grace of the destroyed Roxy Theatre was a photograph of the fabulous Gloria Swanson in the ruins. But the loss of so much of early New York became the driving force to create laws to preserve the city, and this is the subject of an excellent exhibition at The Museum of the City of New York.

Preservation laws were only passed 50 years ago, and it took years to actually enforce them and to expand them to include areas like Central Park. Now New Yorkers have such a feeling of ownership of their city, that even when places like The Frick on 70th and 5th announce plans for expansion, it becomes a vocal public discussion. In this case the loss of the garden on 70th street is a major cause of concern. How fabulous that a garden would have it’s own group of protectors.

While the exhibition showcases newspaper cuttings and legal documents, the display of badges at the end tells a much bigger story of the street level activism that was needed to preserve the Big Apple. This was the sixties after all. Adjacent to this was a quote that said it all for me. ‘(New York) carries on it’s lapel the unexpungeable odor of the long past, so that no matter where you sit in New York you feel the vibrations of great times and tall deeds…’ Those are good vibrations indeed!

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Barefoot & Flying

Abe was the only one who didn’t seem surprised. His grand appearance at The Morgan Library on Family Day showed none of the tell tale signs of his being dead for 150 years. A young hatted fellow did challenge the President’s authenticity, but Mr Lincoln had proof on his side. Not only was the museum full of identifying photographs, but true to the supporting exhibition, his words did transform a nation. He was self educated, literary loving and visionary and The Ebony Hillbillies channelled his legacy through their music to the dancing children. I spoke to him briefly – it was an opportunity not to be missed – before he returned to read the original signed copy of the Walt Whitman poem ‘O Captain My Captain’ that Robin Williams made famous all over again. Abe missed it the first time around…

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A Walk in the Park

Australian accents resound along 5th Avenue at 105th street and I take full responsibility. For the past couple of weeks the Conservatory Gardens have been peaking with cherry blossom, magnolias, tulips, wisteria and lilacs. Collectively in the north east corner of Central Park these much anticipated blooms have been a spectacular sight and their perfume made it a pleasure just to breathe. With the timing of Spring always being so hard to predict and the season last year lasting just a couple of weeks before the summer sun set in, this year has been an absolute bonus. And of course I had to share it. An unsuspecting visitor only had to pause momentarily with map in hand, and I jumped in with enthusiastic discouragement about venturing to the top of the Empire State Building or finding tickets for a Broadway show. Go to the Park! Of course Australians are my favorite audience for sharing what I consider the best places to go, but really, I can’t lose. This is New York after all. Even if botanicals were not what you had in mind for your Big Apple experience, you can always be sure of finding something else along the way. This week it was a local taking his turtles for a walk in the park, and already behind me there were two other Australians on bikes waiting to get a photo…

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Book love

Times change, the world is forever evolving and nothing stays the same. Except at The Grolier Club in NYC. This historic center of worship for (invitation only) bibliophiles on East 60th street is a unique fellowship of men and women who are passionately devoted to books. Under the guise of ordered sensibility, this club houses an intense passion for all things bookish. Books from the past, first editions, catalogues, histories, bibliographies and anything connected to typography, binding, calligraphy or rarity. For over 130 years this society of like minded collectors have met to preserve the past and enable exhibitions – often through loans from their own personal libraries, that would scarcely be seen in the mainstream. Or anywhere. Just finished is an exhibition about Aldus Manitus, the greatest printer of the Renaissance whose publication of works by scholars like Aristotle, Sophocles, Euripides and Plato ensured that these Greek classics actually survived.

To fully appreciate the passion bordering on eccentricity of these books lovers, you need only talk to Chris the concierge. When I asked him how all these treasures were preserved through the ages, he talked about the emotional connection of people to things. We don’t throw away old photographs because they connect us to our ancestry and culture. Looking back, there was a first Christmas card, a first Testament. These are like a Da Vinci to be honored and respected, because they have an equivalent value, they are the original work. You can hold history in your hand. Like Chris did with a score from Bellini that featured hand written notes from Maria Callas scribbled personally for her performance.

Chris is originally from Cuba and collects baseball books. Cuba and baseball is like Australia and cricket. The connections we have with our past are undeniably emotional, and to find a club almost as old as the MET Museum that helps to preserve and to share our cultures adds to the whole love affair that is New York.

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ANZAC 2015

Russell has to take some credit for the crowd. Hundreds and hundreds of people were solemnly assembled when I scooted in to the dawn service at 5.30 on Saturday morning. Not all of the faces were recognisable from the Australian Consulate-sponsored preview of The Water Diviner during the previous week, but many, like myself, would have the thoughtful images of lonely outback stations, the exotic spice markets in Istanbul and the pain of Gallipoli still vivid in their minds. The film was a well timed tribute, because of the 100th anniversary, and almost contrarily, because of the freshness of the telling.

The atmosphere at the Veterans Memorial Plaza in downtown Manhattan was completely different from the Rockefeller garden service I have attended in previous years. There were formalities of course, but it felt more like a coming together of people just to be together, rather than to observe protocols. It didn’t seem to matter that Tawera Tahuri could not make her cue to open the ceremony with the New Zealand national Anthem. (Although her magnificent voice was missed.) Instead, the Consul General of New Zealand, The Hon Peta Conn, led the crowd with early morning gusto and that was all that was needed. Ambassador Jim McLay gave a speech, there were readings of Psalms and the laying of wreaths.

Just before the moment of silence, the bugle player, Michael Taylor, gave the best rendition of The Last Post I have ever heard. That man should join the jazz orchestra at the Lincoln center. So we had inspiration and we had respect. And then we had breakfast. Forever onward. What could have been a salute to changing trends, Turkish yogurt, was overlooked in favor of lactose free bircher muesli. But if anyone thought this was too far removed from the traditions of Gallipoli, there were always the Anzac cookies on offer from the Australian Consulate Chef. As far as authenticity was concerned, they were rock solid…

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Crafty Australians

The curatorial, the curious and the cute come together in an amazing collection of art and functionality on East 62nd Street. Tender Buttons is a button shop that since the early sixties has become a champion of making beautiful little things out of everyday need. The name comes from a work by Gertrude Stein, and the combined talents of the two women who developed the business – one an editor and the other an antiques restorer, have given the shop an imagination that has taken on a life of it’s own. This is place for stories and for memories, and the fact that you can also buy actual buttons is a bonus.

The very elegant and adorned Ms Stoj has been assisting in buttons and tours at the shop for nearly 30 years, and kindly walked me through the walled collections of unique buttons, many of which were not for sale. Handmade antique sets, one of a kind, and reproductions of vintage buttons were in original packaging or housed in wooden frames. There were buttons for military uniforms, nursery rhymes, blazers, coats and everyday attire – at least they were the everyday before the buttons were added. Ladies bring their new designer outfits fresh from Bergdorfs to have them customized, and of course the famous and infamous are regular visitors. Muppet buttons the precise shade of Kermit green were one successful purchase, not to mention the playing card buttons for Jack Nicholson’s jacket when he played the Joker in Batman.

Australians are regular customers and always welcome. Who would have thought our highest mountain would still be making friends for us after all these years? But Polish Ms Stoj was proud to talk about Mount Kosciuszko and to share her theory of the frequent visits of southern sisters – ‘because they are crafty people that spread the word!’ With millions of treasures to enjoy, making a stop at the 62nd street button shop adds only a few steps to visiting other collections on the Museum Mile, but will have you looking much better for the adventure of it…

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Easter bunnies

The spontaneous gathering of characters and their colorful inventiveness make the Easter Sunday bonnet ritual outside St Patrick’s Cathedral one of the best in NYC. The city blocks traffic on fifth avenue from 49th to 57th Street and without any encouragement apart perhaps from Spring fever, the people come. Fabulous homemade creations on happy faces encourage conversation between strangers and of course everyone wants to pose. One native New Yorker with a light bulb on her hat was joining the parade for the first time and when I asked her about the idea behind her bonnet she said hello?!  Simple floral arrangements were big with small dogs this year, color coordination was as always a show stopper and selfies with golf stick extensions trumped many a photographer’s view. Paper hats recycled from Macy’s and Starbucks made a frilled foray into the mix this year – a commercial enterprise, but which nevertheless meant tourists could join the fun. Rabbit ears are always a favorite, the simple addition of which to a conservative look can inspire spontaneous silliness. A television reporter in the process of recording her Easter scoop faced the camera and chatted on for some moments before realizing a beaming fellow was jumping around in the background, paws up and ears bouncing. Despite the amusement to onlookers, the joke was lost on her as she directed him out of view, saying ‘this is supposed to be serious’….   Hello?!?

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