The World Examining Works

Painterly

 

On Thursday I was walking past the old Alcamo Marble place which went out of business last year. I imagine it is about to be turned into a new swanky gallery. Meanwhile it somehow manages to remind me of a Dutch genre painting...

You know all --  that red brickwork and a maid sweeping

we even have the requisite bird --with little footprints

and the still life on top of the oil can. None of the colors above have been tweaked.

Now the Instagram version. How filters alter everything.

Later in the day at the Neue Galerie it pelted with rain, and it was good to be inside. Sepia tends to make things look a bit distant and sweet. I remember Edmund de Waal saying he didn't want to write a 'sepia saga' --where the past is oddly sanitized.

How the rain came down! Anyhow, in spite of all the excitement about the Klimt exhibition, my day was made by the discovery of the work of Heinrich Kuhn.

I had never heard of him before and am now utterly and completely smitten. He is the most painterly of photographers. Wonderful.

 

Snow Day with Dogs

 

The first snow this year (unless you count the freak mini-storm in October).

At seven in the morning it's still pretty dark.

The trees look mysterious

with the two men returning from walking their dog.

Our dog ( suitably booted against the ice-melt they throw down)

the dog's friend Enzo

a horribly chilly looking bench

and heading home with miserably icy hands.

 

 

 

 

Henry

 

 

 

 

 

People

 

I like taking pictures of people  --  then there's the problem about whether they would want their photos in the blog or not.

This is Conan Carpenter and Robert Valin from the dog park with Benny. Flash was busy running round with other dogs. These are people I actually know.

I haven't the least idea what this man's name is, but he was quite happy to have his photo taken. (You would be too if you'd spent the time cultivating such a remarkable mustache).

The young man in the cap in Eataly was busy explaining to the assembled oldies the finer points of baking bread-- how the yeast is imported from somewhere east of Turin etc etc. What was good about his chat (which I overheard while waiting for my foccacia to cool) is how passionate he was about his theme. 

The people on the right are eating free samples. These are people I saw for an instant.

I saw Claude Rolls every day. Unofficial custodian of 22nd Street, ex-military man, a great dog lover (notice the treats on the ledge),and beloved by all. He spent much of his time in his slightly dilapidated black van keeping an eye on the world (or anyway his little corner of it). Yesterday morning he was cheerful --  he'd just got a spanking new red van; in the afternoon he died sitting in it. He was 78. RIP, dear Claude.

 

 

Hints of Things to Come

 

I really like this time of year, a time of gentle decay.

The dog wasn't quite sure what to make of  Vincent Desiderio's paintings at Marlborough Chelsea. I rather enjoyed his dark sensibility with hints of Fellini, Goya and Courbet.

The diner on 23rd Street  has decorated its window

and as for this house near the Bohemian Hall in Astoria, Queens

well!

Wowsers! I'm a little frightened already.

 

Stuff We Keep and Stuff We Throw Away

 

 

A friend brought me this cotton boll from Alabama. I think it is very beautiful though I rather doubt I would have thought so if I had to pick cotton. I digresss.

On Saturday we were helping with a stall at a flea market and I was looking round our spare apartment for stuff to get rid of.

This character, Mr Samuel Worsley, who has lived in my desk for some years, had this  miniature done in 1821 . He seems to have lived in Orwell in Suffolk and looks a little like Wordsworth.

He was almost certainly married to poor Sarah ( above) who died aged 55 years. Where he looks bland beyond bland, she seems rather pinched and miserable. I cannot imagine how they came into my mother's possession unless they were relatives of some distant sort. However, I do not feel I can ditch them to the tender mercies of people who will feel even less connection to them than I do.

Item: two slightly sentimentally sweet French prints of children playing with animals. Kate Greenaway meets toile, much beloved by my grandmother.

I can't ditch those either.

 

 

How Soon is Now?

 

New Yorkers are notoriously impatient. We saw one wearing a t-shirt with the title slogan above yesterday. When we lived in Italy we always loved the expression "Vengo Subito" which loosely translates as......immediately, well...when I get to it.

This dog was being very patient while his master drank his coffee, while we were being very impatient waiting to get back into our apartment after the floors were sanded and sealed.

From our exile-apartment we could spy on people lining up waiting to get into the Barney's warehouse sale.

Most of them had the brains to bring hand-held devices.... 

It must be rather fun to be fun fast cheap and easy.

The last two pictures are nothing to do with anything except I liked the colors.

The wall of the seminary garden on 20th Street.

 

We are now back home sitting round waiting for Hurricane Irene.

Have bought lots of food.........

Happy Weekend.

 

 

Glum

 

On Tuesday evening after an extra good day at the beach where I took many splendid photos of  puffed up seagulls, a sculpted tall sand-cliff ledge made by the tide, the Boudin umbrellas and billowing flags (I can see the photos now --cropped and  ready.....I remember them exactly....!)

well

my hard drive died. Dedder'n a Dodo.

Had I followed the advice of sensible people (my children and so forth) everything would have been saved.

As it is, some bits are. Lots and lots is gone.

 I feel like Buster's chum Biggie (above) when he has had to walk too far to the park and wants to lie down and give up....

 or this character lurking in the dregs of the Thai curry when we'd had cherries for desert.

Now the hard drive is replaced and is spare and bare. But I-photo is all different ...dammit

All I'm left with are people's feet from the bus yesterday evening

and tall trees in Central Park from a cab.

 

Happy weekend.

Apocalypse Now or We Venture Uptown

 

Well, obviously, something was afoot.

For one thing, the tops of the buildings were swallowed up in the mist.

Then the vans came by, six of them in a row,

proclaiming that the end was nigh.

Nothing for it but to eat,

drink,

and be merry

since things are certainly going to the dogs

and the wolves.

 

Wolves are in Bergdorf's windows commemorating Alexander McQueen.

Dog sculpture by Chinese sculptor Ai Weiwei outside The Plaza

Brooklyn

 

An Easter afternoon foray under the river to Brooklyn where

 

footwear is funky.

Boots rule. And retro clothes.

Lots of dogs, but Buster isn't allowed on the subway.

O'Malley wasn't very keen on posing.

Spring flowers

Shortsleeved dresses

Dapper dudes

and cheery people selling snacks.