When your travel-holiday starts with a huge leap, it’s nice to land in a spot that allows you to pause and acclimate. First leg of our 2011 “Land of Our Fathers” tour, for example, we took a massive leap from California to the Netherlands that landed us in semi-familiar territory: English-speaking, tourist-friendly, cultural-cousin Amsterdam, where one of our dearest friends in the world was waiting to welcome us to her canal-overlook home. A few no-pressure Dutch days made it easy to get over our jet-lag, sort out our Euros and phones, and see a few sights. By the time we headed off to the unfamiliar territory of Barcelona, we were well up to the challenge.
Following our own 2011 model, we made the first leg of this trip a cross-country leap from California to New York that likewise landed us in semi-familiar territory: English-speaking (after a fashion), tourist-friendly (to the max), cultural-mélange NYC, where our dear sister Mona was waiting to welcome us to her Brooklyn (Flatbush) home. Once again we had a few no-pressure days to adjust – to catch up on the sleep the red-eye had denied us, sort out my luggage (I wanted to re-organize my stuff, now the no-liquids stage of the journey was behind us), and see a few sights.
We checked off the first item on the agenda by sleeping more than half the day away. Re-packing was a piece of cake. That left us the afternoon and evening for fun. We piled it on.
As everyone out here will proudly tell you, New Yorkers walk everywhere. Well, they walk, and they take the subway. When in Rome . . .
We launched ourselves into the Big Apple experience by adding some bucks to one of Mo’s depleted MTA cards, boarding the B, and heading into Manhattan.
It’s virtually impossible to be in Manhattan and not be somewhere iconic and picturesque. Just passing the subway stops prompts idiots like Roy and me to burst into song (“New York City Boy” and “The Fighter” for 7th Avenue, “Union Square,” “Take the A Train,” the title song from 42nd Street (give a gander to THIS terrific recording (in color!) with Ruby Keeler!) . . . the hits just keep coming.
We emerged at 66th and Broadway, walked about a block, and we’re suddenly standing in front of the famed Juilliard Conservatory. Mo slipped off to run an errand; we slipped off to snag Roy a coffee and took it across the street to the iconic and picturesque Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts. My pic
only poorly conjures the plaza-fountain image emblazoned on my heart – the moment Bloom (Gene Wilder) decides to become Max Bialystock’s (Zero Mostel’s) partner-in-crime in Mel Brook’s The Producers (the 1967 original, one of the greatest films of all time, imho).
Mona had picked Lincoln Center as our destination not just to provide me an op to snap a photo of the sibs,
but because the Lincoln Center is home to the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts,
and she thought their current special exhibit might be our cup of tea. By happy coincidence, 2017 marks the anniversaries of the two biggest awards for commercial theatre: the 40th for the Olivier Awards in London and 70 years of the Tonys® in New York. Hold onto your hats, my theatre compatriots, click on any photo to enlarge it, and please enjoy this small, selective, iPhone-diminished sampling of “Curtain Up: Celebrating the Last 40 Years of Theatre in New York and London.”
First thing to really catch my eye were the kinky boots from Kinky Boots.
The snap belies the boots’ true color, which is super-saturated, hot, deep-red. The exhibit lights skewed the color to a pink shine (sigh). The snap also fails to convey how gi-normous these boots are; made for a truly formidable man, they are formidable footwear. (Thanks go to Roy Jimenez for the pic.)
For me, the next big “ooh” was inspired (expired?) by this elaborate costume from The Phantom of the Opera.
Such detail! The Phantom costume renderings were also quite amazing, but the ones that simply oozed character came from the London production of Matilda.
Did this show ever tour to the West? If so, I totally missed it – and I’m totally bummed that I did. Look at this set, fer gosh sakes!
For those of us who favor the technical side of theatre:
Previous versions of An Inspector Calls had used realistic sets. Scenic designer Ian MacNeil and lighting designer Rick Fisher took a different tack for Stephen Daldry’s acclaimed 1992 production. (Be sure to look at the DDR corner in front of the proscenium.)
Back to wardrobe for a moment, all the Lion King costumes were phenomenally creative, but this giraffe is the topper, isn’t it? A physical actor’s dream!
Last – but certainly not least – a gift for all my stage manager peeps: a glimpse at the Book for the Olivier and Tony Award winning Clybourne Park.
Gorgeous spring evening, we strolled through a portion of Central Park – and had a celebrity sighting! Wanda Sykes!!
Back in my LA days, such encounters were commonplace. Being sympathetic to the woes of celebs, I used to show some aplomb. I never goggled or screamed when I saw them out in the world. This time . . .
I made it past Wanda ok – we just shared giant smiles – but once her back was turned, Mona and I were like, OMG! and I totally lost it, turned and shouted something inane like, “We love you!” (Because we do. She is way cool.). Next time, Wanda, I promise I’ll keep it together.
Here we are recovering from the brush-with-fame excitement,
and also a scenic view, both photos courtesy of Roy.
The only “must-do” on my Big Apple list was dinner at Shanghai Mong (Shanghai Dream). Chef Tora Yi and his wife Jane (Yi Chien) – the super-gracious, super-generous owners of the late, great Ido Sushi in the West Village (where daughter Bryn met her husband Daymon at the restaurant’s Opera Night, a story in itself) run a marvelous Asian Bistro in Koreatown. Read all about it HERE, and see (and hear!) the e-feature HERE.
Koreatown is a little enclave in Midtown Manhattan centered on 32nd St. between Fifth Avenue and the intersection of Broadway and Sixth Avenue (Greeley Square). The Yi’s establishment is right in the heart of it; nestled under the shadow of the Empire State Building, Shanghai Mong is a cheery neon gleam amid the street’s bright lights and bustle.
Dinner was heaven, from the assorted appetizers (including spicy Kim-Chi, of course) to the incredible dumplings, to the impressive (and succulent!) Lobster Boat to the classic Korean Bi Bim Bap (to die for!) and Jap Chae (sooo delicious!), to Tora’s famous sushi (I was going for a few nigiri, but was gifted with a wooden platter overflowing with both nigiri and sushi – everything Tora had available that night (salmon, eel, spicy tuna you name it!)), to a delectable dessert of sweet, ice-chilled cherries, the feast was absolutely magnificent and one of the most delicious meals I’ve ever had. Really. Ever.
I’m not one to snap pics of my meal before digging in, but I do have this of Mona gazing in shock and awe at the lobster boat (truly, it was indescribably good),
this of the maestro at work,
and this of our amazing hosts and two stuffed-to-the-gills happy campers. Diners. Us.
Ah, New York . . . New York. What a wonderful town.
You’ll get no argument from me, but I think it takes city-bred folks to really appreciate NYC straight out of the gate. Night owl that I am, I loved that I could join the parade of fellow night owls out and about at 2 in the morning. And I adored how changeable it is from one neighborhood to the next—a sensory surprise waiting around every corner. I’m so glad you’ve found respite and recreation there, but not at all surprised. May your journey continue to be so pleasant! Thinking of you both every day . . .
Could be . . . though the fact that NYC is a conglomeration of villages gives it an accessibility to all kinds of folks that other big cities can’t boast. With ‘hoods abutting each other so closely that — as you say — you just turn a corner and you’ve gone from England to Jamaica, or India to Korea, or whatever, it’s not hard to find an enclave that makes you feel at home.
Thanks for the good wishes, and for vicariously joining us on our adventure!