Tales of Two Cities

Hugging My Tree

  Those who have followed my blog over the years know that each time we visit Paris we make a pilgrimage to visit "my" tree at Versailles. (You can read about how I came to have a tree at Versailles here.)

Yesterday, we took the RER to Versailles to meet our friends, Robley and June, who own a neat little pied à terre not too far from the Chateau.  We haven't seen them since April 2009 when June drove us on a rutted, muddy road trying to find a way to see my tree from afar.  Read here to find out why we embarked on that venture and how it turned out.

Since that experience, we have twice shelled out 10 Euros a head for the privilege of visiting "my" tree. 

This visit we had hopes of avoiding the hefty entry fee because the Chateau itself is closed on Mondays and access to the gardens is free.

After a very enjoyable lunch at Le Limousin, a local Versailles restaurant known for its leg of lamb, we headed for the Chateau on foot.  Robley and June both set little gadgets that are able to give a fairly accurate measure of the distance walked so we would know how many miles we covered.

About 45 minutes later and after some energetic but friendly debate about which was the best way to go, we arrived at the Grand Trianon to discover that the entry to Marie Antoinette's domaine, the far reaches of which are home to my tree, was closed. 

Charles refused to take no for an answer, explaining to a very nice guard why we wanted to get into the domaine.  Helpless in the face of our obvious emotional need to commune with my tree, the kind monsieur finally suggested a pathway that might work.

Off we went, four happy hikers striding along a narrow path that soon took us into familiar territory.

Of course, nothing is ever easy and we hadn't gotten far before we realized that we would not be able to get to the tree itself by our usual route.  We would be able to see it across a trough too large and deep to leap over, but we would not be able to give my tree the tender loving care to which it had become accustomed.

Once again, Charles came to the rescue, cornering a gardener and explaining why it was absolutely imperative that we get to the tree.  Fortunately,Charles  had not lost his power of persuasion and, sure enough, a few minutes later we were following a path and looking for a small opening in a wall that would let us in.

As you can see from the photograph above, we made it and, of course, all four of us gave the tree lots of love.

I am happy to report that my tree continues to be the tallest in its row. 'Tis true that it looks a bit forlorn at the moment, but this is the norm in the early spring; the tree clings to the prior year's leaves through the winter and doesn't produce new leaves until late spring.  It is a late bloomer, like me!

Mission accomplished, we hiked back to the Grand Trianon and, as a treat for our feet, we took the tourist tram back to the Chateau.

Before we parted company at the train station, June and Robley checked their gadgets to see how far we had all walked.  Four miles, they agreed!!  Not bad for a little after lunch promenade.

 

 

Happy 4th

These four women grew up in Tulsa, Oklahoma and have been friends for more than 40 years. Although they now live in different parts of the United States, when one of them decided that she wanted to see the Boston Pops play on the Esplanade this July 4th, the others jumped at the excuse for a trip to Bean Town, which is how they got to the bench near the Hatch Shell on the Esplanade where I found them yesterday enjoying the sun and crowds. Happy Fourth of July, ladies.  Here's to friendship and fun!      

Mourning Bad Art

Walking in our neighborhood the other day, I was startled to see that almost nothing was left of the Newbury Street Mural, a 15-year old local landmark.

The Mural's demise should not have been a surprise. It is not as though crowds of tourists have made a habit of gathering around to stare, trying to identify the roughly 80 Boston-related personalities pictured.  If you were good, you could find John Hancock, Babe Ruth, Bette Davis, JFK, Cardinal Cushing, Paul Revere, Isabella Stuart Gardner, Nathanial Hawthorne and many others. Unfortunately, the idea of the Mural, hokey as it was, was better than its execution. 

The Mural overlooked an open parking lot at the corner of Newbury and Dartmouth Streets and, upon reflection, I realize that I haven't seen anyone gazing at it in years - the Mural, that is, not the parking lot. In fact, the parking lot is a local marvel. Situated on a good-sized corner lot, the rare open space must cause lust in the hearts of developers. But I digress, which is easy to do when talking about the Mural.

The Mural has been deteriorating and looking disreputable for some time.  Last fall I was inspired by the crumbling paint to take some rather artsy closeups of the wall, alarming the parking lot attendant who demanded to know what I was doing.  (Click here to see one of the closeups.)   

No one, it turns out, was interested in paying to preserve the Mural, which left only two alternatives:  a slow death or euthanasia.  Mercifully, the second alternative was chosen.

Still, the reality of seeing only a few lonely remnants of the Mural still visible on the wide expanse of brick sent me home for my camera. I felt I should memorialize the end of - well, what?  It wasn't until I had taken a series of photographs of all that remained that I realized that I was paying homage and bearing witness to the demise of a piece of amusing but indisputably bad art. 

RIP Newbury Street Mural.

Postcard from Home - Big Apple Adventure Part III

Around 4:30 Sunday morning, I was awakened by a flash of light followed by rumbling.  I opened my eyes and noted that snow was piled up against the window of our 35th floor hotel room.  I thought a minute, decided I must have imagined the flash, and went back to sleep.  Thunder and lightening do not go with snow storms, right?  But it happened again, and then again as dawn approached and there was no doubt.  The predicted blizzard conditions had arrived.

First order of business, after coffee, orange juice and a muffin from the purveyor in the lobby, was to confirm that the trains were running.  A decision needed to be made.  Should we take an earlier train, stick with our plan to take the 6 p.m. Acela. or stay over another night.  Charles, my loyal sherpa, fought high winds, snow banks and blowing snow to check out the situation at Penn Station.  Trains were running late, but ours was expected to make the trip -- sooner or later.  As we considered our options, the hotel's fire alarm went off.  At that moment, having a room on the 35th floor seemed like a really bad idea.  Quickly, we made our decision, packed our bags and checked out.

We lunched at the now familiar Tick Tock Diner and I took a few pictures through the windows (see above for one of them). Conditions were too wet and windy for me to use the camera outdoors, alas.  Fortified, we trudged through the snow to the subway for an easy trip back to the American Museum of Natural History.  Charles wanted to revisit the Darwin exhibit and we both wanted to spend time in other parts of this intriguing and unique museum.  We were pleased to discover that you can enter the Museum right from the subway.  Perfect!!

After a leisurely afternoon in the company of a large number of families who had had the same idea, we made the requisite visit to the museum shop to buy books and, of course, scientific funsies for The Adorable One. Here is one of the photos I was able to take looking at Central Park from the safety of the front steps of the museum before we hopped back on the subway.  Charles gallantly dropped me off at Penn Station so I wouldn't have to go outside then, as I relaxed with a warm cup of coffee, he went into sherpa mode to collect our luggage from the hotel.  His trek back to the station was arduous. He discovered the hard way that having wheels on luggage is useless in blizzards.

The end of our adventure was quite tame.  By late afternoon, New York City had received a record snow fall in Central Park (27 inches I believe). Our Amtrak train was the first of the day to leave on time and we arrived at Back Bay Station only 10 minutes later than scheduled.  Of course, our adventure wasn't quite over.  Boston, too, had received a substantial amount of snow (18 inches or so) and we had 4 short and 1 long, snowy, slippery  blocks to haul our luggage.  At least Charles had help this time.  We opened our door to find two warm and contented cats.  'Tis true.  There is no place like home.

Postcard from Home - Big Apple Adventure Part II

Saturday of our New York City adventure was all about extended family - the one all of us share with the animal kingdom and one that is more personal.

We woke on Saturday to gray skies.  Visibility was still good, however, and, even though the weather channel was warning of an approaching blizzard in DC, NYC and Boston, there was no evidence of it yet.  We took the subway to the American Museum of Natural History where we met our good friend (and extended family member) Barbara who had gotten us all tickets to see the Darwin exhibit that morning.  Barbara, my sister's sister-in law, was in New York to visit her son and his family, to see the Darwin exhibit and to attend a special event scheduled at the Museum on Sunday.  Barbara taught 6th grade for years and is passionate about science.

The huge dinosaur skeleton in the photo graces the Theodore Roosevelt Memorial Hall as you enter the museum on the first floor.

No photography is allowed in the Darwin exhibit proper, but you can take pictures of the live Galapagos tortoises (mere babes at 2 to 3 feet long) just before entering.  The tortoises were lively considering that they are tortoises and it was wonderful to see youngsters with their noses pressed against the glass watching in fascination.

The Exhibit was extensive.  It took us 2 1/2 hours to get through it and, at that, we didn't see every detail.  It is comprised of large posters with photos and text chronicling Darwin's life and work. Excerpts from relevant correspondence with typed versions beside each were displayed in glass covered cases below the posters, which was a good thing because, as beautiful as the handwriting was, it was hard to read.  There was a life sized reproduction of his home library where he worked and wrote in the years following his voyage on the Beagle.

A huge, live iguana (the same kind as the one that Barbara keeps on her back porch) lounged behind glass, looking inert except when its eyes opened and followed those peering through the glass and, periodically, when its chest moved as it took a breath.  There were also live South American ornate horned frogs whose camoflage made them a challenge to spot among the rocks and moss in their display case.  Otherwise, the animals on display were either preserved specimens or models. Some of the smaller specimens, like beetles, were set up with microscopes of the type used by Darwin that allowed you to take a closer look.  For me, It was a particular thrill to see a tray of Darwin's finches and to be able to observe the differences in the beaks!

In general, I do not care for exhibits that are mostly made up of posters, but this one worked well and it is hard to imagine how all of the information could have been conveyed otherwise.  Nevertheless, I have two complaints.  First, the lighting was way too dim making it really hard to read the interesting materials.  Second, I thought that there was too much proselytizing.  The force of the exhibit was enough to make the point and the film clips and other materials emphasizing the legitimacy of evolution felt to me like protesting too much. 

Exhausted and exhilarated, we walked to the nearby Ocean Grill for lunch.  By the time we finished, it was sleeting lightly.  Still, the mild temperatures lured us into believing that the forecast blizzard would not happen.

Saturday evening we took the subway uptown to Broadway and 72nd street to the home of Barbara's son and family.  Sipping on a glass of wine we chatted with know Scott and Mariela and enjoying the antics of Jack and Allie, their two very bright and active children  Then it was into the subway again for the trip downtown to one of Mariela's favorite restaurants, Landmarc in TriBeCa.  There the five us us enjoyed a wonderful dinner with stimulating conversation in a high energy environment.  Ah New York!

The snow was beginning to stick a bit as we left the restaurant for the subway ride to the hotel.  But temperatures were still on the warm side and we thought perhaps that the forecast blizzard would not happen.  Wrong!!

Postcard from Home - Big Apple Adventure Part I

On Friday, February 10, we boarded the Amtrak Acela at the Back Bay Station for a three day weekend adventure in New York City.  The meteorologists were talking about a possible blizzard on Saturday and Sunday, but the mild weather and bright sun as we rode through Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut to our destination promised otherwise. Besides, we figured that the trains would operate even during a blizzard. Which isn't strictly true, of course.  The trains don't run if the winds get too high.  But more about that in Part III.

Our room was ready for us when we arrived at the Ramada New Yorker Hotel located a conveniently short walk from Penn Station.  After a quick consultation with the concierge, we had booked good seats to see Wicked that evening at a much better price than I had been able to find on the Internet. 

After a leisurely lunch at the Tick Tock Diner (pictured above), we took the subway downtown to the Chelsea district to see two photography exhibits that interested us.  First stop was the Hasted Hunt Gallery located in a giant warehouse building on West 20th Street near the Chelsea piers where the Dutch commercial photographer, Erwin Olaf, was having his first US show. New York Times art reviewer, Ken Johnson, described the works this way:  "The large, carefully staged photographs of people in midcentury American clothes and environments ... look like the dreams of a deeply depressed Norman Rockwell."  The picture at the beginning of this paragraph is one of the more evocative and disturbing on display at Hasted Hunt.  You can visit Olaf's web site to see other pictures that were in the show (the "Hope" and "Rain" series) as well as samples of his other work, including edgy advertising images which Mr. Johnson described as "irreverent, sexy, funny and surrealistic."  Be warned that Olaf's photographs are unsettling and many are sexually explicit.  The exhibition closed on February 18.

Next we strolled along 12th Avenue by the Chelsea piers to West 24th Street where the Gogasian Gallery was exhibiting the most recent work of Alec Soth, a series called Niagara. The gallery press release says:  "Throughout NIAGARA Soth emphasizes various motifs associated with romance, ranging from newlywed bliss to heart-broken agony, the innocent and sacred to the perverse."  While there were many arresting images, including two of the falls, overall we didn't find Soth's work compelling.  You can can take a look at the pictures on Soth's web site and judge for yourself. This exhibition runs through February 25th.

Postcard from Home - Stormy Day in Boston

What a day!!  At noon, I met my friend Doe on the Commonwealth Mall in front of my building.  We were off to the French Library on Marlborough Street for the Wednesday Picque-nique en Ville lunchtime discussion group.  The skies were gray and the temperature near 60 degrees.   I had heard that high winds and rain were headed our way as cold air pushed in from the West, but figured we would probably be home before it hit.  I was wrong.

Doe needed to stop by a local antique store on Newbury Street and, by the time we left the shop, the wind was really howling. We grinned at each other as we started our 5 minute walk to the French Library.  Hey.  We are tough gals.  We can do it!  Smiles turned to grimaces, however, as the wind grew so strong that it pushed us violently along the sidewalk.   Suddenly, we were surrounded by flying debris, we had little control over our movements and the experience was no longer fun.  It was scary.  And it was dangerous.  So we did a 180 and headed home.  Only to find that the wind had shifted and was still pushing us.  At one point we both grabbed onto trees on Newbury Street to wait out a gust.  It felt really good to get home safely. 

A few hours later, I noticed the sun trying to come out and decided to go out and mail a couple of letters on the corner and maybe take a few shots of the interesting sky.  The wind had quieted down and it wasn't raining. What I found was major flooding, especially on Exeter Street, which had become a small pond..  (See photo above.)   This inspired me to take some reflection pictures.  My favorites are the one to the left and one you can see by clicking here.

The violent weather was not over.  In late afternoon, there was more rain and wind, which I heard from the safety of our bedroom.  It is now after 10 p.m. and the outside temperature is down to 40 degrees, so we probably have had frontal passage.  Tomorrow is supposed to be cool and sunny.  What a day!!

   

Postcard from Home - To New York City with the 5D

Last Wednesday, Charles and I walked a few short blocks to Boston's Back Bay Station and hopped aboard the 6:20 a.m. Acela to New York's Penn Station to take in the Fra Angelico exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  We also planned to check out the Cloisters, which we had never visited, before catching the 5 o'clock train back to Boston.  I had Chris' Canon 5D in tow with my 50 mm f 2.5 compact macro lens.

Less than 3 1/2 hours later, we had arrived.  We did our usual thing and grabbed a cab to the MET.  This is a photo taken out of the cab window on 8th Avenue near West 57th street.  The variety of architecture that assails the eye hurts the brain.  Our Haitian cab driver turned out to be an art aficionado who talked non-stop and intelligently during the 10 minute drive. His favorite Picasso is the portrait of Gertrude Stein.  Very interesting choice on his part.

The Fra Angelico exhibit, which closes on January 29, was well worth the trip.  Most of the works were painted between 1427 and 1444 and feature beautiful detail work (a lot of gilt), lovely skin tones and gorgeous colors. It is always fascinating to see the faces on art work from many centuries ago.  They could belong to today's New Yorkers - well, some of them.  I was taken with the architectural details in the backgrounds of many of the pictures and I also particularly liked "St. Francis Receiving the Stigmata." a tempera on wood, which had the look of a wood cut because of the stylized manner in which the walls of a cave are represented.  Alas, no photography was allowed in the special exhibit.

Next on the agenda was The Cloisters. We had each done a quick check on the Internet to see how far away it was from the MET and gotten the mistaken impression that, while not in walking distance, it was fairly close-by.  We checked with some folks to find out the best way to get there and decided to take the M4 bus from Madison and East 83d to the end of the line, figuring it would take us maybe 20 to 25 minutes.  An hour later we arrived at Fort Tryon on the northern end of Manhattan island wondering how we were going to get back to Penn Station in time for our train home.

With time at a premium, we headed first for the collection of early tapestries, one of the best outside the Cluny in Paris.  Because the colors are so sensitive to light, these centuries-old artworks are kept in very low light conditions and provide a real challenge for hand-held, no-flash photography.  (It turns out that you can get a permit to use a tripod at the MET and The Cloisters.  Next time.) The picture of the unicorn was taken with the 5D using ISO 3200 and my 55 mm lens.  Because the lens was essentially wide open, there are some depth of field issues, but there was almost no noise from the high ISO, even in the blues.  I am really pleased with the quality of the photo under all of the circumstances.  Wow.  The full-frame sensor of the 5D really does make a difference.

Another things we wanted to check out on our short visit was the vaunted view of the Hudson.  Alas, fog totally obscured the river.  Oh well.  It is always good to have a reason to return.

We figured that we had better try the subway for our trip to Penn Station.  We grabbed the bus to take us through the park one stop to the subway station (the driver didn't make us pay), then took line 8 directly to Penn Station.  We were there in 20 minutes.  So, the lesson here is that it is most efficient to take the subway to the Cloisters -- unless you have a car or want to pay $20 or so for a cab. 

The trip home was uneventful and the train was on time.  Long day.  Great time.  Impressive performance by the 5D.

Postcard from Home - Appalachian Spring on a Winter Afternoon

One of the true pleasures of living in the city is the ability to walk to concerts, movies, Red Sox games, New Years Eve parties, a huge variety of stores, the Charles River Esplanade and the Public Garden.   Sunday, we enjoyed an afternoon walk in mild winter temperatures to Jordan Hall to hear the Boston Symphony Chamber Players' second concert of the season.  (We missed the first one in October because we were in another wonderful, walkable city - Paris.)

The program was outstanding.  Bach's Brandenburg Concert No. 3 in G started off the concert.  The first half also featured a pleasing Stravinsky with which I was unfamiliar:  Concerto in E-flat for chamber orchestra, Dumbarton Oaks, 8 v. 38, and a piece by Copeland,  Quite City for trumpet, oboe and strings, with the haunting sounds of the horn and woodwind that Copeland does so well.  The concert ended with Appalachian Spring in its original version for thirteen instruments.  Listening to the alternatively serene, rhythmic and energetic passages was like discovering this minor masterpiece for the first time.  What a totally transcendent pleasure.  I particularly enjoyed watching the piano player go from being a a solo voice to being a percussion instrument giving depth to the voices of the other instruments.  Appalachian Spring got a standing ovation from the crowd - a first at at a Chamber Players concert in my memory.

The site of the concerts is the New England Conservatory's Jordan Hall, renowned for its acoustics.  Located just a block from Symphony Hall, it was renovated in 1995.  The beautiful organ, of which I took a picture prior to the concert (see above), is inspired by the organ in Santa Maria della Scala organ in Sienna, Italy.

We always enjoy the walk home in the evening, especially the views of brightly lit Back Bay high rises.  They look particularly beautiful from the open area by the Christian Science Church where I was standing when I took this picture.