A Day Trip to Newport, Rhode Island

Rosecliff

The view from Rosecliff

     To celebrate our 40th (!!) anniversary, TD and I recently spent a week at the beautiful beach home of my great friend Abby in Little Compton, Rhode Island, which is a lovely small town with green hills that roll down to the scenic coast line. TD and I enjoyed visiting different beaches there and swimming in the Atlantic Ocean in September. We went to the local fish markets and stopped at the farm stands for fresh corn and tomatoes and lettuce. One day we drove about 50 minutes for a day trip to Newport, Rhode Island, where the millionaires of the Gilded Age built palatial summer "cottages," as they were called, by the sea. 

     Our first stop was Rosecliff, pictured at the top of this post. Rosecliff was built in 1899 by architect Stanford White for Nevada silver heiress Theresa Fair Oelrichs, and based upon the Petit Trianon at Versailles. On the top floor of the building was a fascinating exhibition about architect Richard Morris Hunt, who built colossal homes for the Vanderbilt family in New York City, Newport, and Ashville, North Carolina. 

     As a student, Hunt was the first American to attend the prestigious Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris. Back in New York, Gilded Age millionaires newly awash in money wanted to live like European royalty and Hunt knew how to deliver the French splendor; he was the man who designed the Gilded Age. 

    Our second stop was at Marble House, which was built by Hunt in 1888 for William K Vanderbilt and his wife Alva. On HBO's popular show "The Gilded Age," George and Bertha Russell are based on William and Alva, and indeed some scenes have been shot at the grandly opulent Marble House. 

The dining room at the Vanderbilt's Marble House

The staircase at Marble House 

     Besides his work as an architect, Richard Morris Hunt was passionate about bringing European and world art and culture to the United States, and was one of the founders of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, for which he designed the still majestic Great Hall. In order to improve the status of architects, who were thought of as tradesmen, he founded the American Institute of Architects. Hunt was a fascinating figure who shaped the design of his time and was devoted to elevating the culture of the United States after the Civil War.  

    Hungry after our house touring, we had a wonderful lunch at Belle's, which is located on the dock of the Newport marina. Along the dock, big boats and tall sailboat masts soared overhead. 

 

Belle's

 

    And then we stumbled unknowingly into the picturesque Newport Historic District with its 18th century Colonial houses. There we found the charming Cottage & Garden antique shop offering vintage furniture and accessories. 

 

    I really enjoyed our day trip to Newport and would gladly return - there is so much American history and culture and design to be a savored there. I was delighted by everything I saw. Newport is a rich resource for those who love beautiful things. 

A Trip Upstate for a High School Reunion

 

    I recently had a trip upstate to New Hartford, New York, where I grew up, for a high school reunion. Shortly after I graduated with high school, my family moved away so I had not been back up to New Hartford in nearly 50 years. I had never been to a reunion so I didn't know what to expect. But my great friend Suzy was pushing me to go and TD thought it would be a good idea too. I figured, "Well, now are never!"

     So one morning I took the train from Grand Central up to Beacon, New York, where I met Suzy and her husband John who drove us up to New Hartford, outside of Utica, about a three hour drive. Suzy had our yearbook and we went through it in the car to refresh our memories. Up in New Hartford, I rented a car and drove to the home of my cousin Celeste on my father's side, who had invited me to stay, and it was great fun to catch up with her and her husband Kevin. That night Suzy and I had dinner with the two Nancys at an Italian restaurant in the village of New Hartford and then stopped into a bar down the street that used to be Wanamaker's Furniture store. 

     The next day, I had some time to drive around New Hartford and Utica to some favorite place. First was the two houses my family lived in. I have sweet memories of our little Cape Cod house on Morris Circle but it was now overgrown with vegetation in front and it looked like the roof was damaged. Across the street is a ravine where my brother Thom and I literally spent four seasons a year outdoors roaming around. Now many years later it had eroded further so it was deeper than it used to be and the side was too steep to go down. On the other side of the ravine where beautiful wild fields that had now been turned into a residential development. 

   On I drove through town and went into the big modernist Catholic church St. John's the Evangelist where we went as a family every Sunday for mass, the six of us lined up in a pew. I spent a lot of time in that church. The next stop was up Wills Drive where our second home is located. It was bigger - five bedrooms. We moved there when I was in seventh grade so I spent my junior high and high school years in that house. 

    Then I headed over the hill past the Valley View Country Club golf course to downtown Utica to two favorite spots. The first is the Utica Public Library housed in a beautiful Neoclassical building designed in 1904 by the renowned New York City architecture firm Carrere and Hastings, who in fact built the New York Public Library, one of the finest examples of Beaux Arts architecture in the United States. The interior of the Utica library has five floors of elegant metal stacks with glass floors. In high school, I loved studying and doing research and reading there. 

Old views of the the exterior and interior of the library.

    Alas, the library was not as I remembered it. The refined interior has been mucked with clashing displays and signage and a video screen. I asked the librarian if there was an elevator to the upper stacks and he replied that it was broken. But I still have fond memories of reading and studying in the stacks, and perusing the Conde Nast magazines from New York City in the Periodicals Room. 

    Then I headed right across Genesee Street to the Munson Williams Proctor Art Institute, which is now simply called Munson, like the New York Historical Society is now called New York Historical. Shortening a name is the new thing, I guess. This art museum was designed by prominent architect Philip Johnson in the modern International style and opened in 1960. It's quite a contrast to the Neoclassical library across the street. 

    I took a lot of art class at the adjoining art school and always loved visiting this museum. The museum interior felt vast and was very quiet and cool. It has a good collection of modern paintings and its treasure is "The Voyage of Life" series of four oversized paintings by American artist Thomas Cole. There was a lending library where members could borrow art works to take home, and my mother let me help her pick them out. This place really was a sanctuary for me. My cousin Celeste met me at the museum for a tour through a current exhibition and then we had a tasty lunch next door at the Terrace Cafe at the Fountain Elms house museum. 

    When I graduated from high school, I went to McGill University in Montreal and studied art as an art history major. And it's largely due to these two places in Utica facing each other on Genesee Street -- the library and the museum. They were the beginning of me. 

    Then it was back to Celeste's house and onto the main event - the high school reunion at the Yahundasis Country Club! I met my great friend Nannette in the parking lot and we walked in together - just as we had gone to the Senior Prom together. From the moment I stepped inside, the event was a blast. It was so much fun to see people again after 50 years! Some looked exactly the same. It was a pleasure to be with everyone after such a long gap. High school is an intense time. At least it was for me. And it wasn't always a picnic. As a tall, thin, bookish, creative kid who ran in the opposite direction from a ball, I did not fit into the athletic focus of New Hartford High School. But everyone was so happy to be at the reunion and glad to see each other again. There was a buffet dinner when we were briefly sitting down, but otherwise we were on our feet talking and catching up and reminiscing. I was there for five hours. It felt very restorative and when I got back to Celeste's house that night, my head with spinning with conversations and snippets. I wanted to remember it all and everything everyone said. 

    The next morning was a tour through New Hartford High School, which felt oddly smaller than I remember it but also larger as several big additions have been made. Then it was on to a friend's house for a brunch. For lunch, I met my cousin Ginny Border at a restaurant in the village. Ginny is actually my second cousin as she is the daughter of my mother's cousin Katie Border. Along with Ginny's sisters Mary and Patty, we have the most wonderful memories of being at 611 in Herkimer with our great aunts. Ginny is our family historian and it's always intriguing to talk with her. 

    Then I drove out of New Hartford! It was a whirlwind 48 hour visit. 

   I drove on to Saratoga Springs to visit my uncle Brian and his wife Susan for two nights. My great grandfather Dan O'Donnell was a railroad engineer and Brian loves trains so we drove together to the Saratoga train station to pick up TD, who came up from New York. Brian and Susan have a wonderful pool and deck that is a treat to lounge around. He is the last surviving sibling on my mother's side and I love to hear his wonderful family stories that go way back in time; he recalls when I was an infant and he was my babysitter. Then TD and I spent a night with my cousin Bob (on my father's side) and his wife Nancy who live nearby. Bob took us in the car to Ballston Spa, a charming nineteenth century town, which had some big antique stores to explore, and then to visit their daughter Louisa and some of her kids. 

    The next day, TD and I took the train home along the wide, unblemished Hudson River which has to be one of the most beautiful train rides in the US. We arrived back in New York at the quiet and civilized Moynihan Train Hall. 

    It was a trip back into my youth, back into my past. I'm so grateful that I got to do so much and see so many places and people -- family and friends. The reunion was such an unexpected pleasure. I'm glad that I went and I thought of my parents - they would be happy that I did that too. To drive around the streets of New Hartford and Utica and see my friends and classmates again was fulfilling and warmed my heart. It was one of life's full circle moments. 

A True Life Job Interview Story

Some companies including Delta Airlines have stated their commitment to maintaining their DEI efforts. 

     Out of the blue, a headhunter emailed me at 9:30 one night to ask if I could talk with her at 9:30 the following morning. I said Ok, and the next morning we had a Zoom call when she explained to me the open role she was looking to fill. She said she was working for a big national not-for-profit organization which receives a lot of Federal funding. The organization was concerned about threats from the current White House Administration and so was looking for an editor to go through all the organization's content and take out all references to DEI – which promotes diversity, equality and inclusiveness – so they would continue to get Federal funding. 

     There was a long silent pause. I was kind of stunned by what she was saying. I had never heard a job description like that before. And by definition, the role of this organization is to provide services to a widely diverse community. We talked about it some more. This was an organization that I am familiar with and like, and I began to think about the job as a way to help this organization and protect it during this challenging time. The job was fully remote, which was convenient, and it was a good pay rate! I told the headhunter I would be interested in pursuing it. 

    A couple of days later I found myself on a Zoom interview with the Vice President of Communications. We had a nice friendly talk. It was not an awkward interview where the interviewer goes down a rote list of questions. She said there would be 10 editors working full time for three months to go through all the content. By the end of our chat, I was fairly confident that I would get it. 

    A week later I got an email. I did not get the job. At first I was kind of baffled by it. My experience is excellent and I thought we had a nice rapport. Then I thought - Maybe they went through my social media? Saw that I had recently attended a No Kings March? And maybe a married gay guy was not the best candidate to delete all diversity, equality and inclusiveness. I began to feel relieved that I didn't get it. I don't know if I'd really be able to do that work. After all, I believe deeply in equality for all and the importance of diversity and inclusiveness. That's why I live in New York City! I notice companies now in the news who will maintain their commitment to DEI under pressure and I admire those companies and want to support them. 

"Oh, Mary!"

      At last! "Oh Mary"! Everyone has loved this Broadway show and some of our friends have seen it more than once so expectations were high but it did not disappoint. The fictional, wacky story about Mary Todd Lincoln written by and starring Cole Escola is running at the Lyceum Theater, which was built in 1903 and is like a great ancient vaudeville theater. We had good seats in the first row of the mezzanine so a wonderful view of everything including the ornate ceiling, walls decorated with molded plaster swags and sculptures of three muses high overhead at the very top of the proscenium arch. It was the perfect setting for the old school madcap hijinks that followed.  

     Escola has said that this play is about a woman with a dream that no one around her understands and also what if Abraham Lincoln's assassination wasn't such a bad thing for Mary? The result is hysterical. One gag, one funny bit after another, and it felt good to laugh, along with the entire theater, for 90 minutes straight. Escola throws themself into the role with the most extreme facial expressions and body contortions. Also, I found Conrad Ricamora as Mary's tortured husband Abraham Lincoln to be just as funny. The entire small cast was excellent. At one point I was laughing so hard doubled over that I was afraid I was distracting the guy sitting next to me so I tried to rein it in. It's such a gift to be able to write a piece that creates joy like that. This play was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize and has been nominated for numerous Tonys. I hope it wins. And I want to see it again immediately.

A Great Season in New York City Museums - 4 Things to See Now

This spring has really turned out to be a banner season for New York City museums. After Covid, I think the museums are going all out to attract visitors, and there are some wonderful things to see in New York now. Taken together as a whole, New York offers an astonishing display of the best of the best - there really is no place like New York! In the order in which I saw them, here my favorites that I recommend. And you can see how they are related --

 

The Newly Renovated and Expanded Frick Collection 

The West Gallery 

The Fragonard Room 

     The Frick Collection has always been a favorite spot of mine, and now, after a lengthy and expensive renovation and expansion overseen by Selldorf Associates, it reopened this spring. I was lucky to get a tour of it before it opened to the public as I was researching a story I wrote for Frederic magazine (read my story here). On the afternoon that I was visiting, actress Christine Baranski, who is currently in the series "The Gilded Age," came through looking smart in a pantsuit. I wanted to catch her eye and say, "What do you think? This is the real Gilded Age!" but she didn't look like she was open to chitchat. 

     The building was originally built as the home for the Frick family and then converted into a museum after family members died, per Henry Clay Frick's will. Now it was been renovated and expanded. The grand staircase, which used to be closed off with a velvet rope, is now open so one can happily ascend  to the second floor where the former family bedrooms are now gallery exhibition space. On the second floor there is also a a new gift shop and cafe. The whole thing feels much more opened up and the Frick seems like more of a substantive museum, a bigger destination. It's greatest pleasure is the art collection hanging on the walls. To enjoy the masterpieces purchased by Frick in this stunning setting is really a treat.

 

"Sargent and Paris"

In the Luxembourg Gardens

Paul Helleu Sketching with His Wife 

     A couple of weeks after the Frick reopened, the Metropolitan Museum of Art opened "Sargent and Paris," featuring the work of artist John Singer Sargent, also of the Gilded Age. Organized by curator Stephanie Herdrich, it examines the decade when the young 18-year-old painter arrived in Paris and began his career. His rise was quite meteoric as it ends with the renowned portrait of "Madame X", which, with her low cut dress, fallen shoulder strap, and arrogant attitude, was felt to be an unsuitable portrayal of a married woman. The painting scandalized Paris and prompted Sargent to move to England. 

   In England, Sargent painted some of my favorite works including the big, blowsy, gorgeous "Wyndham Sisters" and the simple, poetic garden scene "Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose," but here in this show based in Paris you see the beginning of his great taste and eye for elegance and style and color. Sargent had such a beautiful vision of the world and it's a great comfort to be in its presence.

"Amy Sherald: American Sublime"

    On a whole entire floor, The Whitney museum downtown in the Meatpacking District has mounted an exhibition of paintings by Amy Sherald, who famously did the portrait of First Lady Michelle Obama. Sherald, who was born in Columbus, Georgia, in 1973, did not see many people pictured who look like her in the annals of art history and so she set about painting portraits of every day Black Americans.

   After looking at a number of the portraits, I noticed that the artist renders the skin in gray, rather than natural skin tones. She did this, she has said, to draw attention to the individual rather than the shade of their skin color or race. Like John Singer Sargent, Sherald has a wonderful eye for clothes and details, and I loved the colors and prints and patterns in this show. I found it very uplifting in the current dark and disturbing political climate.

"Superfine: Tailoring Black Style"

Also centered on a Black theme, back uptown at the Met, the Costume Institute has just opened a new show celebrating the Black dandy, and how Black men have used clothing as self expression and protection since the 18th century. I have not seen this one yet but plan to soon! It of course opened with the Met Gala on the first Monday in May, organized by Anna Wintour and Vogue. Attended by musicians, movie starts, athletes and artists, the night raised $31 million. The Costume Institute has not mounted a menswear show in 22 years. The reviews have been great and I'm looking forward to it. There is always something wonderful new to see in New York City.

"Live With the Things You Love"

Carter and I at her book party at the Double RL store.

"Live With the Things You Love" on my mother's antique wood dining table from upstate New York.

 

   My great friend Mary Randolph Carter, who is called Carter, has written a new book entitled "Live With the Things You Love...And You'll Live Happily Ever After" (Rizzoli), and TD and I recently had the pleasure of attending her book party hosted at the Double RL store on West Broadway in Soho. While Carter has had a big creative director job at Ralph Lauren, she has also authored popular lifestyle books and this is her tenth. Carter's great passion is for antiques, vintage items, family heirlooms and fun finds she calls junk. She advocates for interiors that have meaning and warmth, and she has a great eye for mixing bright, cheerful colors like an artist. Everything goes back in time and shares a romantic aesthetic. When I worked at Ralph Lauren, I loved visiting her in her office which, though it was on Madison Avenue, felt like a trip to a house in the country with its wonderful antiques, soft textiles, piles of book and magazines, and vintage art on the walls. Not much is new and shiny in Carter's world. In one interview she recounted how her husband Howard was begging to replace creaky, wobbly porch chairs with something from Target that "no one will kill themselves on." Nothing suitable had yet been found. 

The cheerful kitchen in Carter's country home.   (book photos by Carter Berg)

 

     I share Carter's love of antiques and vintage items. To me, they speak with a simplicity and a softness and a comfort. They have a history, they have a life that's more interesting than something new. Perhaps my favorite book by Carter is called "For the Love of Old." It gave me the courage to eschew the new and shiny for things that go back in time. The antique pieces that we have in the apartment are dear to my heart including our dark wood dining table that my mother found at the renowned Bouckville Antique Show in upstate New York when I was growing up and gave to me. At the end of our living room we have a beautifully shaped Empire table that was given to my great grandparents on their wedding day in Herkimer, New York, in 1886. Catty corner to that I have my great grandfather's very large and rustic wood tool box that he used while railroad engineer on the Adirondack Line railroad. In front of the couch is a small, green, slightly rusting metal coffee table which is actually a factory table that I found at the sorely missed Chelsea Antiques Garage. It cost $25. I thought it would be temporary but it has stayed because it is the perfect size and color. 

 Her colorful porch for summer time relaxing.

 

     Carter's new book continues to inspire with the homes of thirteen artist and friends who are similarly passionate about living with antiques and pieces that are rich with sentimental value. Her voice supports my love for the old. When I doubt myself and consider that an antique should be replaced by something new, I think, "No, Carter would approve."

A Lost Beloved Thing

Last summer, when TD and I took a memorable trip to Italy for my nephew's wedding on Lake Como, we flew from JFK airport on a Sunday night for an all-night flight to Milan. I find going through the airport TSA check point to be stressful -- it seems like you wait in a long slow line to get up to security and then suddenly it's a mad rush to get your belongings into a plastic bin -- and then what needs to come off? Your shoes, your belt, your jacket, your phone, your watch, your wallet? Sometimes it seems that the requirements are different. The guards were yelling to move along faster. I took off my things and as I approached the scanner, TD, who was behind me, said, "Do you have your cross on?"

   Ah, my cross.  When I was in high school, my father gave me a silver cross on a chain that I have loved these many years. My father, who passed away in 2017, didn't give me many personal gifts and this one was perfect so it was highly unusual. He had picked it out in a store in downtown Utica ­– a small silver asymmetrical medallion centered by a cross. On one side the medallion is cross-hatched and the other side has the texture of modeled clay. It was simple but interesting and modern but timeless, and I have cherished, and not lost it, for approximately 50 years. The only jewelry I wear is my wedding ring from TD, a watch that belonged to my brother Eric, and my father's cross.

   At the airport, I quickly slipped the chain and cross off my neck and threw it into the black plastic bin. On the other side of security, we hurriedly gathered our things and put them back on and continued to the gate for our flight.

     The next day around mid-day in the hotel in Milan, I felt my chest for my cross on the chain. It wasn't there. In a panic, I rifled through all my pockets and knapsack looking for it. Had I already taken it off and put it somewhere in the hotel room? I didn't think so but I searched the room and through my pockets again. I couldn't find it anywhere and I flashed back to Ted speaking to me at security and slipping it off my neck.

     I had left my cross in the plastic bin at JFK International Airport.

     My heart sank. I had managed to hold on to that cross for 50 years and now it was gone. And I felt terrible. Why hadn't I put it in a safe pocket in my knapsack where it wouldn't get lost? I was distraught and angry at myself. This had the potential to ruin the trip.

  After a while I opened my laptop to see how to report a missing item at JFK. I found an email address and rather hopelessly sent off an email to TSA describing what I lost and where and when I lost it. Three days later I received an email back that said TSA did not collect lost items for the particular terminal we were in. For that terminal, I had to submit a report on an app.

    Oh dear I thought, the black hole of an app. On the app I submitted a lost item report. It asked for a photo or drawing of the item so I got out a pad of paper and sketched my cross 

    I took a picture of it and uploaded it to the app and sent it off. 

   30 minutes later I received a message back from the app. 

   They had my cross. 

   I literally could not believe my eyes when I read it. I thought maybe it was a mistake but how could it be when my drawing was so specific. In that vast, cavernous airport terminal, someone had found and retrieved my little silver cross. And the emailing and app from my hotel room in Milan had worked. Honestly, it felt like a miracle. I was so happy and relieved. It said for $50, they would FedEx it to my home so a few days after we returned from Italy, I received my silver cross in the mail and slipped it on my neck. I really am so grateful to TSA for being organized, and amazed that when it works, technology really works. And thankful to have a small piece of my father back.

 

Some Christmas Memories

 

Christmas at 611- in the back row, my great aunt May, my father, and great aunt Zibby. In the front row, my brother Thom, me with my brother Eric on my lap, and my sister Cynthia. 

 

Christmas Eve a few years ago - Thom, me, Ted, and Eric.

 

    With my parents gone and my brother Eric too, holidays are very poignant now and filled with memories. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas are also my birthday, Eric's birthday and Ted's birthday. And there was my mother's birthday and my grandmother's birthday. Eric loved Christmas and Christmas Eve. So it's a period that's filled with remembrances. During this time, I get flashes of people and bits of memories. We were always together at the holidays. I have a longing to be together again.

     Christmas especially was a big occasion when I was growing up. My mother loved holidays and loved celebrating. I grew up in a little Cape Cod house in New Hartford, New York, until we moved to a bigger house across town. My mother made the house pretty at Christmas and there was always a lot of art on the walls. On Christmas Eve, my father's parents, Nanny and Grandpa, and his sister Betty came for dinner. My father's parents did not come to our house a lot, even though they lived close by in Utica, so it was an event. Every year in the living room we children put on a little musical skit, set to "The Little Drummer Boy," for instance. We had costumes and props, and as the oldest of four, I was the bossy director. Then dinner. My mother was not a cook and did not like to cook. You couldn't eat meat on Christmas Eve, and every year she served a dreadful crab meat casserole. She said, "Oh, the children are too excited to eat anyway." This was accompanied by green beans with almonds, for some green color. Dessert was a treat -- half a coconut-covered snow ball with a little piece of plastic ivy on top and a little candle. 

    After dinner, the lights were turned off and we sat around the colorfully illuminated Christmas tree and sang carols. Some years, during this time, the phone would ring and it would be Santa Claus calling. Singing around the tree in the darkened room was so peaceful and serene. "Silent Night" was my aunt Betty's favorite. 

     Christmas morning, Thom and I rose at the crack of dawn and rushed downstairs and tore through all our presents like little banshees. My mother would get us clothes and later in the morning we would try on the new clothes and they never fit - too big, too small, etc. "Jesus Christ, none of these clothes fit," my mother would cry in frustration. "Donna!" my father said. "Do not talk like that on Christmas Day!" 

    We got dressed for Christmas and the six of us piled into the station wagon to go to church to the gigantic, modern, cold St. John's the Evangelist in New Hartford. And after church we went to visit my great aunts at 611 West German Street, in nearby Herkimer, New York. 

   We didn't take the Thruway there, we took the back roads, so it was literally over the river and through the woods. I've written about 611 a lot so forgive if this is repetition.  My mother's four aunts, Zibby, Milly, May and Kay, lived in the big Victorian house that they and their siblings, including my mother's mother Foffy, had grown up in. My great grandfather Dan O'Donnell, had emigrated with County Sligo in Ireland and worked as a railroad engineer on the Adirondack line. A trip to 611 was always a treat for me and the house had a big influence on me with it's high, high ceilings, antique furniture, marble fireplaces with a wood fire burning, piles of books and magazines and the Sunday New York Times (which was rare in upstate New York), and wonderful stories from my great aunts, particularly Milly who had gone to Cornell, lived in the Philippines, and loved to read. At Christmas, there was a tall tree covered with silver tinsel and a cocktail hour. Milly carried a shaker of a Whiskey Sours with her and she was always smoking a cigarette. Christmas dinner was around the big dining table in the dining room, and Milly sat at the head and directed the conversation. For me it was all dreamy. My great aunts adored us. There was never a word of criticism. They thought we were the best. It was unconditional love at 611, and everybody needs that.

     At the end of the night, the six of us piled back into the station wagon and my father drove home. In the back, we children would pretend that we were asleep so that my father would carry us into the house. 

     I am lucky to have these memories, and to have been with both my father's family and my mother's family. My parents really did a good job at Christmas. And I'm lucky today to celebrate holidays with my spouse Ted and siblings Thom and Cynthia and family and friends. A season of gratitude. And remembering loved ones who I miss.

A Trip to the Met

The American Wing lit up at night

The Annunciation by Ambrogio Lorenzetti, 1344, from the Sienna show

 The Pieve Altarpiece by Pieto Lorenzetti, 1320, from the Sienna show

The moody, atmospheric Copenhagen Harbor by Moonlight by Johan Dahl, 1846

Garden at Vaucresson by Edouard Vuillard, 1920, which is a favorite.

     After the astoundingly upsetting election results, TD and I needed a trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art for some beauty and relief from the darkness. We like to go on Friday nights which are much less crowded than daytime hours. Our first stop on the second floor was to the current blockbuster called Siena - the Rise of Painting. Florence, Italy, is often thought of as the cradle of the Renaissance, but this exhibition focuses on the work of the painters of Siena. The installation of the show is very striking. The rooms are dark and black columns create a vertical height. On the dark walls the golden paintings glow and it's blessedly quiet so its like being in a cathedral. The paintings all have the lovely Italian Renaissance palette - rose, tones of blue, orange and gold, gold, gold. The Annunciation, pictured above in simple tones of gold, blue and rose, captured my attention . The angel's golden sashes on the rose-colored robe were highly textured as if they were encrusted with jewels. The angel looks poignantly at Mary as she lifts her eyes skyward. It's a great Bible story and this painting beautifully expresses the emotion. My favorite thing I saw all night.

     When we came out of the show we proceeded across the hall to the 19th and Early 20th Century Art and Sculpture Galleries, which I love and have been in a million times, but we were interested to see that the Galleries have been painted in new colors and the art work rehung in new ways. It was so refreshing and fun to go through again. Then we went down that long hall lined with drawings and prints and found ourselves in the European Paintings 1250 - 1800 Galleries that were closed for so long as they were redone with new overhead lighting. Those galleries also have been painted new colors and the art rehung in unexpected ways. Those galleries are so vast we just walked through some and will return to investigate further. 

   Lastly, it was time to retire to the Balcony Cafe for a cocktail. Yes, Friday nights is Date Night at the Met and the Balcony Cafe sells cocktails while a musical quartet plays. We usually breeze in easily but we had to wait in line this time and cool our heals for a bit. That night, on offer was a fallish cocktail with cognac and apple cider. I said to the counter man, "How is it?" and he replied, "Strong." Good, we'll take two, and it was yummy. We found seats at a little table and enjoyed the music while peering out on the majestic vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall below. 

     After awhile, it was time to toddle on. There was a quick stop in the book store and then we headed home revived by the Met, which is like going to church for me.

 

    

The Story of Bell

 

 

 

     TD and I are terribly sad to say that we had to say good-bye to our sweet cat Bell last week. The whole thing has been hard. We've had her for sixteen years and she came from Herkimer, New York, upstate, which is the town that my grandmother grew up in. Bell was diagnosed with a tumor in August and the vets thought the illness might have originated elsewhere. We tried to keep her going with a steroid and appetite enhancer but towards the end she just stopped eating and drinking water. On the last day she had trouble walking so we had to bring her uptown to the vet to say good-bye. She was our third cat after Katie and Rose, and honestly, taking a pet to the vet to say good-bye and going through that with the animal is my least favorite thing to do in the world. 

   We've had a cat since around 1996 and we often had two cats at a time so if one cat passed, we always had another to come home to. But with Bell we were down to one so when we came home the apartment was empty. She had been with us in the apartment almost as long as we have lived in this apartment. I am still talking to her and we are still looking for her habitually – on the bed, on the couch, on her favorite chair. We've not been able to pick up her water bowls or throw out her food and medication; I don't want to erase her presence here. 

   Besides being very pretty to look at, she was wonderful soft and cozy company, and followed us around the apartment. She would sit next to me and sometimes let me hold her paw; we'd hold hands. If we went out of town, we had someone come in and feed Bell, and we always looked forward to seeing her on our return. When we came home, she'd be a little miffed with us. There was a short period of readjustment for her. Our pets have their own personalities and she had her own life and spirit in the apartment.

    All of our kittens came from upstate New York. In 2008, we were in Herkimer visiting the Bellinger Rose B & B in the house at 611 West German Street that my grandmother grew up in and then run by Chris and Leon Frost. In search of a kitten, we went with our kitty carrier to the Herkimer County Humane Society. 

    An older woman very nicely took us through the facility and showed us all the kittens in metal cages that were up for adoption. Finally we got to a back room and there was a little white kitten with black markings who was about a month old with her mamma cat. The woman opened the cage and let us hold her. The kitten clung to my tee shirt and wouldn't let go; I always say she chose us. We decided we wanted the little white kitten and took her to the front desk. There we were told this kitten was too young to be adopted and we could not take her. 

     We left frustrated. The next morning I woke up still thinking about that little white and black kitten. Over breakfast at the B and B, we told Chris and Leon Frost our sad tale. They very kindly offered to go get the kitten for us when she was old enough and we could come pick her up. We will be forever grateful to Chris and Leon. They picked up the kitten who lived for a short time at the Bellinger Rose B and B, my family's former home. And so we named her Bell. 

   Chris took a short video of the kitten on the front stairs and sent it to us. We were going to drive back up to Herkimer to get her but Chris and Leon reported that they had some kind guests who offered to drive Bell down to Yonkers, New York. So Ted and I took the train with our kitty carrier up to Yonkers and met the couple who so nicely delivered Bell to us. The whole thing was kind of a miracle; it was meant to be. We took the train back home, the three of us. 

   We had sixteen happy years with that girl. She was a part of the family and we miss her terribly.