Thursday, September 21, 2006
Step outside and into adventure – bus ride to Javits Center
LOOKING AHEAD by Wally Dobelis
It was starting to rain when I headed for the 14 Street cross-town bus, destination Jacob Javits Convention Center. No one was waiting at the 3rd Ave. stop, and I resigned to a lengthy vigil, until a young Hispanic woman rolled up, in a wheelchair. We exchanged nods, and she positioned herself at the front entrance.
When the bus came, the driver instantly rolled out the lift platform, pavement level, and she wheeled herself on it, to be raised up. But at the top, the driver realized that she had a wide hand-propelled vehicle, and his front-seat slot was already occupied by another chair; they exchanged words, and the platform descended, the passenger rolled to the rear entrance of the long folding bus. The entire transaction was handled in no more than two minutes, a far cry from the old days and a great improvement to the old back- of- the- bus lift mechanics.
When we the mobile passengers entered – by now there were several – I saw that the other wheelchair person was a tiny frail lady, about ninety, with an attendant. When her departure time came, the attendant loosened the quick-release straps and lowered the seats that the lady’s small motorized vehicle had occupied, and the passenger smartly wheeled herself out, positioned correctly at the door, the two passengers were lowered on the lift platform (front flap folded up to avoid accidental roll off, then folded down at ground level) and she drove away, not a hitch nor plaint. Brave New Yorkers, we have nothing to worry about, we can handle anything.
Then it occurred to me that the bus was filled with mainly elderly people, in fact nothing but (it was Friday midday), moving on and off without problems, coping with rain and packages. For one, all the seniors are adept with Metrocards, getting them in and out of purses without delays – time is more valuable when you get older. Further, there were less big shoulder bags and more small backpacks in use, not just the ordinary kind – these are equipped with wheels and long telescoped handles. The shoulder straps are folded up, and umbrellas are tucked into the space behind. These lightweight contraptions are easily maneuvered, do not occupy much floor space in the bus and make the carrying of small shopping packages a nothing task My generations seem to be adapting to changes and ergonomic improvements with ease, I’m proud to say.
The driver had volunteered to point out where to get the 10th Ave bus to Javits, but my #14 veered south on Hudson Street, which enters from the south and ends at 9th Ave, and I had to ask again, at the trianular stop. He apologized and pointed out the #11 bus, moving north on 9th Ave, then west on 14th Street, that would take me west to and along 10th Ave. I caught the next one, it was a compact new short bus, and the young woman driver had no idea of the Javits Center (11th Ave, covering several mid- 30s blocks), and guessed at 34th Street. It was her first day on the route, as substitute. “Sweetie, they just gave you a bus route and told you to look for stops?” I teased, and she affirmed. Jointly we scanned the route for the stop, found it, and wished each other not to get lost.
Getting out to the far western parts of our neighborhood is like visiting a distant planet. If our center is ST/PCV, and the four parks form the main planets, this is Pluto. Here is a different world – the huge Western Beef market on 14th Street, and the meat packing district (I don’t know whether the outside assembly lines of moving hooks for beef carcasses still exist, they used to be quite a sight), and the steak houses, then 10th Ave with its 24 –hour taxicab repair shops, good places to know. A lot of the tall buildings, many quite modern, are warehouses – I was focusing on the prop rental agency and stage scenery storage firms, the instruments of wealth creation in our post-industrial service economy. And they are busy – forklift trucks chugging along the streets, into long warehouse aisles.
Arriving at the yawningly empty rain-washed glass giant Convention Center after an hour and a half, mostly bus time way above the estimate), I found my objective, the ILAB Antiquarian Book Fair, tucked in a tiny fraction of the vast space, and had some pleasant chats with visitors from far away, the venerable Maggs Bros and Bernard Quaritch emporiums in London, some Dutch and French firms, Ken Lopez and Peter Howard from the West Coast as well as Boston and New York folk. Standing in front of cheerful-looking long bookcases filled with international treasures of five centuries priced in the thousands, they were quite nonchalant about the lack of visitors; Saturday and Sunday were still ahead. Despite the execrable balance of trade, dollar is still the currency and New York is Action Central. But time was short, and I had to move on. More about books anon.
It was starting to rain when I headed for the 14 Street cross-town bus, destination Jacob Javits Convention Center. No one was waiting at the 3rd Ave. stop, and I resigned to a lengthy vigil, until a young Hispanic woman rolled up, in a wheelchair. We exchanged nods, and she positioned herself at the front entrance.
When the bus came, the driver instantly rolled out the lift platform, pavement level, and she wheeled herself on it, to be raised up. But at the top, the driver realized that she had a wide hand-propelled vehicle, and his front-seat slot was already occupied by another chair; they exchanged words, and the platform descended, the passenger rolled to the rear entrance of the long folding bus. The entire transaction was handled in no more than two minutes, a far cry from the old days and a great improvement to the old back- of- the- bus lift mechanics.
When we the mobile passengers entered – by now there were several – I saw that the other wheelchair person was a tiny frail lady, about ninety, with an attendant. When her departure time came, the attendant loosened the quick-release straps and lowered the seats that the lady’s small motorized vehicle had occupied, and the passenger smartly wheeled herself out, positioned correctly at the door, the two passengers were lowered on the lift platform (front flap folded up to avoid accidental roll off, then folded down at ground level) and she drove away, not a hitch nor plaint. Brave New Yorkers, we have nothing to worry about, we can handle anything.
Then it occurred to me that the bus was filled with mainly elderly people, in fact nothing but (it was Friday midday), moving on and off without problems, coping with rain and packages. For one, all the seniors are adept with Metrocards, getting them in and out of purses without delays – time is more valuable when you get older. Further, there were less big shoulder bags and more small backpacks in use, not just the ordinary kind – these are equipped with wheels and long telescoped handles. The shoulder straps are folded up, and umbrellas are tucked into the space behind. These lightweight contraptions are easily maneuvered, do not occupy much floor space in the bus and make the carrying of small shopping packages a nothing task My generations seem to be adapting to changes and ergonomic improvements with ease, I’m proud to say.
The driver had volunteered to point out where to get the 10th Ave bus to Javits, but my #14 veered south on Hudson Street, which enters from the south and ends at 9th Ave, and I had to ask again, at the trianular stop. He apologized and pointed out the #11 bus, moving north on 9th Ave, then west on 14th Street, that would take me west to and along 10th Ave. I caught the next one, it was a compact new short bus, and the young woman driver had no idea of the Javits Center (11th Ave, covering several mid- 30s blocks), and guessed at 34th Street. It was her first day on the route, as substitute. “Sweetie, they just gave you a bus route and told you to look for stops?” I teased, and she affirmed. Jointly we scanned the route for the stop, found it, and wished each other not to get lost.
Getting out to the far western parts of our neighborhood is like visiting a distant planet. If our center is ST/PCV, and the four parks form the main planets, this is Pluto. Here is a different world – the huge Western Beef market on 14th Street, and the meat packing district (I don’t know whether the outside assembly lines of moving hooks for beef carcasses still exist, they used to be quite a sight), and the steak houses, then 10th Ave with its 24 –hour taxicab repair shops, good places to know. A lot of the tall buildings, many quite modern, are warehouses – I was focusing on the prop rental agency and stage scenery storage firms, the instruments of wealth creation in our post-industrial service economy. And they are busy – forklift trucks chugging along the streets, into long warehouse aisles.
Arriving at the yawningly empty rain-washed glass giant Convention Center after an hour and a half, mostly bus time way above the estimate), I found my objective, the ILAB Antiquarian Book Fair, tucked in a tiny fraction of the vast space, and had some pleasant chats with visitors from far away, the venerable Maggs Bros and Bernard Quaritch emporiums in London, some Dutch and French firms, Ken Lopez and Peter Howard from the West Coast as well as Boston and New York folk. Standing in front of cheerful-looking long bookcases filled with international treasures of five centuries priced in the thousands, they were quite nonchalant about the lack of visitors; Saturday and Sunday were still ahead. Despite the execrable balance of trade, dollar is still the currency and New York is Action Central. But time was short, and I had to move on. More about books anon.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Klimt exhibit - last chance to see the $135M Golden Lady and her companions together
LOOKING AHEAD by Wally Dobelis
Chances are that, if there had been no need to see my digestive system
maintenance service on the Upper East Side, we
would have missed the gorgeous Gustav Klimt paintings at the new Neue
Galerie on East 86thy Street, just off 5th Ave, and the $135Million lady
would have been whipped off the wall, destination unknown, while her four
companions were marched off to the gavel at Sotheby’s, to be dissipated to
wherever super- rich men can sit back and feast their eyes on the most
exquisite beauties of this Earth.
All of us have read the story of how the Viennese sugar banker Ferdinand
Bloch-Bauer had engaged the society painter Gustav Klimt the portray his
young wife Adele, on a stunning large golden background, in a gold dress –
more a robe – surrounded by golden coins, curled snakes, and fertility
symbols, Egyptian and Freemason and Freudian. Given the aristocratic
blue-skinned rosy-cheeked red-lipped seductive –eyed subject, the 1907
result was the most exuberant portrait of a woman ever, overwhelming in its
color and ironic in its opulence, sexuality and social commentary. Klimt
had studied the Byzantine mosaic paintings in Ravenna in 1903, seeing the
Empress Theodosia in a bejeweled setting, and translated that into the
small patterns of enchanting context and juxtaposition that characterize
his textiles, backgrounds, indeed his stylized landscapes of masses of
foliage, attenuated birches and Autumnal leaf-fall. Only faces remain real.
Klimt, originator of the Viennese Succession, a revolutionary blip against
Naturalism in Art’s two-millennia path from Symbolism to Realism to
Abstract, officially painted the temperamental and strong-willed Adele
twice, and allegedly also as the biblical Judith (not seen here),
bare–bosomed and seductive. He painted many Viennese society women, all
proud of their portrayals. The Bloch-Bauer family owned five masterpieces
(two of Adele), and when the Nazis occupied Austria in 1938, the occupiers
stole the art. At the end of WWII, it was turned over to the
Oesterreichiche Gallerie Belvedere in Vienna. Adele died young, of
meningitis in 1925, and in her will indicated that the paintings should be
donated to Austria. Ferdinand, who lived in exile to 1945, willed them to
his niece Maria Altmann (b. 1916) and nephews. Maria carried a court fight
for restitution on two continents, until in 2005 the Austrian appointed
arbitrators decided for return of the Klimts to the family. Cosmetics
magnate Ronald Lauder, who as Ambassador to Austria fought for the return,
in June 2006 bought Adele I for the Neue Galerie for $135M, the highest
price paid ever for a painting, and it has been on exhibit there, July 12
to September 18, along with the four others on loan from the family,
scheduled to be subsequently auctioned off.. However, the exhibition was
extended to October 9, so hurry, hurry…
The Neue Galerie, dedicated to early 20th Century German and Austrian art
and design, is a passion of its founders, Ronald Lauder and his associate,
the late Serge Sabarsky, whose gallery on 79th and Madison sponsored German
Expressionist shows for decades . The Klimt show’s admission charge is #15
($10 for seniors and students). The 2nd floor museum of three rooms has one
dedicated to design – fragile and delicate wineglasses, tea service, square
table silver, a four-part flower vase that looks like a filigreed
Zeckendorf Towers, and silver, jewelry in Joseph Cornell-like boxes,
exquisite work of the Secessionist architect Joseph Hoffman (1870-1956),
Otto Prutscher, Dagobert Peche and others (copies are for sale in the
museum shop).
The middle room holds the Klimts, all five unobtrusively protected with
non-reflecting plexiglass. The third room, containing six Klimt sketches
for the Adele I, all nearly headless and concentrating on clothing, also
has his nudes.
Thirteen sketches by Egon Sheele, Klimt’s brilliant student who died at 29,
surviving his wife by a year, in their sadness underscore the exuberance of
the master. Three works on paper by the Viennese Oskar Kokoshka , and six
by Alfred Kubin complete the exhibit. There is also a 3rd Floor of German
art, not seen in our hurry of absorbing the Klimts
The museum is in a converted Vanderbilt mansion, its provenance noticeable
in the bookstore with its open shelf construction, appropriate for another
era.
There is also a ground floor restaurant, Cafe Sabarsky, The savories’
list offers Viennese specialties - Spaetzle, paprika wurstsalat, ham with
trout, white sausage with potato salad, Hungarian goulash. .Salads include
duck/watercress, bean with pistachio, avocado and prosciutto/cantaloupe
combinations, and there are Matje herring and smoked salmon sandwiches. The
piece de resistance is Viennese coffee,mocha with whipped cream (schlag), to be had with desserts, Sachertorte, chocolate and hazelnut cake and chocolate and rum cake, all with schlag... A Rumpelmayer's experience At the bottom of 15 delights we finally found the favorites –
Himbeerschnitte (raspberry tart) and Schwarzwalder Kirschtorte, available
only Mon-Fri. All that we were missing was Anton Karas’ zither in the
background. The Neue Galerie (628-6200) is open 11-8, to 9 on Fri, closed
Tue/Wed.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In tribute to the victims of 9/11/2001, this column offers a thought from
President Andrew Jackson’s Farewell address (1838): “Eternal vigilance is
the price of liberty.”
Chances are that, if there had been no need to see my digestive system
maintenance service on the Upper East Side, we
would have missed the gorgeous Gustav Klimt paintings at the new Neue
Galerie on East 86thy Street, just off 5th Ave, and the $135Million lady
would have been whipped off the wall, destination unknown, while her four
companions were marched off to the gavel at Sotheby’s, to be dissipated to
wherever super- rich men can sit back and feast their eyes on the most
exquisite beauties of this Earth.
All of us have read the story of how the Viennese sugar banker Ferdinand
Bloch-Bauer had engaged the society painter Gustav Klimt the portray his
young wife Adele, on a stunning large golden background, in a gold dress –
more a robe – surrounded by golden coins, curled snakes, and fertility
symbols, Egyptian and Freemason and Freudian. Given the aristocratic
blue-skinned rosy-cheeked red-lipped seductive –eyed subject, the 1907
result was the most exuberant portrait of a woman ever, overwhelming in its
color and ironic in its opulence, sexuality and social commentary. Klimt
had studied the Byzantine mosaic paintings in Ravenna in 1903, seeing the
Empress Theodosia in a bejeweled setting, and translated that into the
small patterns of enchanting context and juxtaposition that characterize
his textiles, backgrounds, indeed his stylized landscapes of masses of
foliage, attenuated birches and Autumnal leaf-fall. Only faces remain real.
Klimt, originator of the Viennese Succession, a revolutionary blip against
Naturalism in Art’s two-millennia path from Symbolism to Realism to
Abstract, officially painted the temperamental and strong-willed Adele
twice, and allegedly also as the biblical Judith (not seen here),
bare–bosomed and seductive. He painted many Viennese society women, all
proud of their portrayals. The Bloch-Bauer family owned five masterpieces
(two of Adele), and when the Nazis occupied Austria in 1938, the occupiers
stole the art. At the end of WWII, it was turned over to the
Oesterreichiche Gallerie Belvedere in Vienna. Adele died young, of
meningitis in 1925, and in her will indicated that the paintings should be
donated to Austria. Ferdinand, who lived in exile to 1945, willed them to
his niece Maria Altmann (b. 1916) and nephews. Maria carried a court fight
for restitution on two continents, until in 2005 the Austrian appointed
arbitrators decided for return of the Klimts to the family. Cosmetics
magnate Ronald Lauder, who as Ambassador to Austria fought for the return,
in June 2006 bought Adele I for the Neue Galerie for $135M, the highest
price paid ever for a painting, and it has been on exhibit there, July 12
to September 18, along with the four others on loan from the family,
scheduled to be subsequently auctioned off.. However, the exhibition was
extended to October 9, so hurry, hurry…
The Neue Galerie, dedicated to early 20th Century German and Austrian art
and design, is a passion of its founders, Ronald Lauder and his associate,
the late Serge Sabarsky, whose gallery on 79th and Madison sponsored German
Expressionist shows for decades . The Klimt show’s admission charge is #15
($10 for seniors and students). The 2nd floor museum of three rooms has one
dedicated to design – fragile and delicate wineglasses, tea service, square
table silver, a four-part flower vase that looks like a filigreed
Zeckendorf Towers, and silver, jewelry in Joseph Cornell-like boxes,
exquisite work of the Secessionist architect Joseph Hoffman (1870-1956),
Otto Prutscher, Dagobert Peche and others (copies are for sale in the
museum shop).
The middle room holds the Klimts, all five unobtrusively protected with
non-reflecting plexiglass. The third room, containing six Klimt sketches
for the Adele I, all nearly headless and concentrating on clothing, also
has his nudes.
Thirteen sketches by Egon Sheele, Klimt’s brilliant student who died at 29,
surviving his wife by a year, in their sadness underscore the exuberance of
the master. Three works on paper by the Viennese Oskar Kokoshka , and six
by Alfred Kubin complete the exhibit. There is also a 3rd Floor of German
art, not seen in our hurry of absorbing the Klimts
The museum is in a converted Vanderbilt mansion, its provenance noticeable
in the bookstore with its open shelf construction, appropriate for another
era.
There is also a ground floor restaurant, Cafe Sabarsky, The savories’
list offers Viennese specialties - Spaetzle, paprika wurstsalat, ham with
trout, white sausage with potato salad, Hungarian goulash. .Salads include
duck/watercress, bean with pistachio, avocado and prosciutto/cantaloupe
combinations, and there are Matje herring and smoked salmon sandwiches. The
piece de resistance is Viennese coffee,mocha with whipped cream (schlag), to be had with desserts, Sachertorte, chocolate and hazelnut cake and chocolate and rum cake, all with schlag... A Rumpelmayer's experience At the bottom of 15 delights we finally found the favorites –
Himbeerschnitte (raspberry tart) and Schwarzwalder Kirschtorte, available
only Mon-Fri. All that we were missing was Anton Karas’ zither in the
background. The Neue Galerie (628-6200) is open 11-8, to 9 on Fri, closed
Tue/Wed.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In tribute to the victims of 9/11/2001, this column offers a thought from
President Andrew Jackson’s Farewell address (1838): “Eternal vigilance is
the price of liberty.”
