Mount Bonnell, the highest point in Austin, Texas, with an elevation of 775 feet above sea level.
We saw Lady Bird’s bowling shoes yesterday at the LBJ Library along with an especially moving exhibit about one month in LBJ’s presidency, March 1968, when Peggi and I were still in high school. The Tet Offensive, a massive surprise attack, was a pivotal moment in the Vietnam War. More American troops were in Vietnam Nam than at any other time in the war. Our casualty rate was proportionally high, a nightmare, vividly recalled on multiple video screens by soldiers who were there for the battle.
The photo above is not how I pictured Austin. We walked up to Mt. Bonnell this morning and got a great look at downtown in one direction and the homes along the Colorado River in the other. We learned that just after the Civil War General Custer and his wife, Libby, picnicked up here. The Custers noted that the summit was too steep for a cavalry horse to climb, so it had to be climbed on foot.
Ellsworth Kelley “Austin” at the Blanton in Austin, Texas
Before leaving our nephew’s home this morning we searched for galleries and decided on the Blanton and the LBJ Library for the AM and then the small contemporary galleries in the afternoon. Reading about the Blanton I remembered that Ellsworth Kelley had designed a pagan church here.
Originally conceived in 1987 for a private vineyard in California, he gave the plans to the University of Texas and renamed the piece “Austin.” The 2,715-square-foot stone structure, stained glass and interior artworks are inspired by the many churches Kelly visited in France and draw from religious themes in art history. Reminiscent of the Romanesque style, twin barrel vaults intersect at right angles. Its floor plan is known as a Latin cross. The exterior limestone is from Alicante, Spain.
A freestanding, 18-foot-tall wooden Totem sculpture commands attention at the end of the main aisle. The location, form, and material allude to the cross normally placed at this spot in a church. Like all the artist’s Totems, the form also recalls ancient Greek figurative sculptures. Made from California old-growth redwood logged in the 19th century and salvaged from the bottom of a riverbed. The stained glass windows reflect light differently depending on the time of day and season. The 14 square panels are Kelly’s abstract versions of the Stations of the Cross, a series of scenes that depict the story of the crucifixion.
Kelly masterfully abstracted the Christian church and its symbols. Unfortunately he died before Austin’s completion so he never saw it. I can’t say we saw it either. They were rebuilding the weighty entry door and the building was closed. Made of repurposed native Texas live oak, it needed some repairs. We were only able to walk around the building and imagine.
It takes a special kind of person to rock cowboy boots and/or a western hat and there are quite a few people walking around town that don’t look all that special. We’re guessing they, like us, are from out of town and they just bought the gear at one of the many shops we’ve seen. The annual SXSW is just gearing up and some people are already walking around with their badges.
We talked to Rich last night and he expressed interest in going for a ride in a Waymo next time we visit. We saw one in Miami Beach and we just watched one float by while we were walking up and down Congress. Maybe we’ll trade our car in while we’re down here.
I love reading news like this while I’m trying to have a good time. “Lee Zeldin, the administrator of the E.P.A., has recommended that the agency reverse its 2009 finding that greenhouse gas emissions endanger human health and welfare, according to three people familiar with the decision. That would eliminate the legal basis for the government’s climate laws, such as limits on pollution from automobiles and power plants.” Kathy Hochul whomped him when he tried to run for governor and Trump saved a spot for him in his cabinet of gangsters.
We’ve covered a lot of ground in Miami. The water level in the canals that run through the city is at the top of the retaining walls. People drink a lot bottled water here. There’s no return deposit on the plastic. I better stop. We’re on vacation.
We had some Manchego cheese and wine back in our room that we planned to make a small meal out of but it turned out the little CDB and Beer store near our motel didn’t have any bread or crackers. We asked the clerk if there was a store nearby that was open on Sunday and he told us there was a convenience store about ten blocks south. On the way we walked by a Subway and stopped in there to see if we could buy one of their rolls.
The only employee there was wearing a mask and mopping the floor. When she finished I pointed to one of the rolls on the rack behind the counter and she took it out, put it on the cutting board and cut it in half. We said, “That’s it, how much is it?“ It became clear she didn’t speak English. I tried “solamente pan” and she looked at us blankly. She wanted to know what we wanted on it. We were thinking of the scene in “Five Easy Pieces.” Somehow she caught on that we only wanted the bread and she shook her head. “No.”
We continued on and found the 24 hour convenience store. The door was locked and there was a woman outside who told us the store was open but the clerk was going to the bathroom. He unlocked the door and we asked him where the crackers were. This was the kind of store where the owner buys big boxes from Costco, cuts them open and sells the individual packets, the way they sell one cigarette in some stores, so we picked out a packet of what looked like Keebler Club crackers, no label, just a clear package. At the counter. He told us the packet was one dollar.
It was getting dark by the time we got back and I took the photo above.
We walked up Biscayne, across the bridge over the inlet, and then turned directly to the bay. We could only glimpse the water before the road turned into a bridge to North Beach. We turned around there and hugged the streets along the inlet. Every third home or so was for sale. A narrow empty lot had been turned into a park (we could tell because there was a small sign that read “Park.”) We watched a motorboat come slowly up the channel and still manage to create a wake large enough to come over the banks. The low-slung, grade-level-entry houses were barely above water.
Back at the motel we researched “art galleries.” Where were they? Doesn’t Miami have a big art fair every year? We took an Uber up to the “Design District.” Every big designer brand you can think of has an outlet here. But no galleries. We got a cup of coffee at Pura Vida, a really good “cortadito,” and walked out of that area into Buena Vista, a comfortable old school residential neighborhood.
We crossed the tracks and decided to walk by the two restaurants our nephew owns. We had not hooked up with him yet. We were on the wrong side of the street when we realized we had walked right by both of them. I had taken note of the graphic on the side of one building, line drawings of young people dancing. I took it for an old fashioned teen center. It was Walrus Rodeo. Boia De, in the same strip mall, has such a low profile it took us a few minutes to realize we were standing right in front of it. At night, when their brilliant explanation mark of a logo is lit up it looks like my photo above. Our nephew was there attending to a plumbing issue. With a Michelin star Boia De is booked months in advance but somehow he arranged for us to get a table that night.
Our server, Tamar, told us they usually recommend six dishes to share per table. We decided on two, “Confit Octopus” and “Ricotta Gnocchi Alla Norcina”and two half orders, “Luci’s Chopped Salad” and “Lamb Ribs Fra Diavola.” All four were phenomenal but the salad was the best. We couldn’t finish the Gnocchi and brought it back to our motel room. Classic R&B music set the perfect vibe. In the bathroom, Curtis Mayfield’s “Future Shock” sounded as timeless as ever.
Hand painted signs are the best. We’re visiting our nephew in Miami and staying in the MiMo district in a refurbished turquoise motel, one that the Rat Pack popularized in the day.
According to the historical marker in front of our place, “The Vagabond Motel was constructed in 1953. The Vagabond Motel is a distinctive example of the evolution of modern architecture after World War II. It embodies the characteristics of Florida’s roadside motels catering to tourists arriving by car along main highways such as Biscayne Boulevard. Designed by Miami architect Robert Swartburg, the hotel exemplifies the Miami Modern (MiMo) architectural style that emerged as South Florida architects began to adapt postwar design and materials to Florida’s subtropical climate.”
I was just getting over the Uber driver’s odorizer and the room smells vaguely like bug spray but that goes with the territory. We are on the second floor, overlooking the pool and it is beautiful, a long way from the frozen sidewalks. And pizza and two salads have just arrived from Walrus Rodeo.
We hated to leave Rochester when the winter was so beautiful but the the three days of full sun in Manhattan was a suitable consolation. It turned grey on our return and winter had turned ugly, in that the ice made it tough to walk. We tackled Hoffman Road to the park and back and then out Center to the park but we had to turn around there because of the ice. Even yesterday, while we were downtown, the sidewalks were treacherous. We kept thinking of a friend who fell and broke his hip. I saved the mp3s from our last Margaret Explosion gig and put then in a playlist for our next outing.
It was a 60 minute flight to DC and we had just spotted the Lincoln Memorial when the flight attendant announced we were in a holding pattern due to “VIP movement in DC.” I can only imagine but would rather not.
Christine Sun King “Hockney Future” at Whitney NYC
Christine Sun King’s graphic, deaf-centered work fills three floors at the Whitney. The large, graphic, charcoal drawings are bold but too similar to sustain their impact. I fell in love with this small one, labeled “Hockney Future.”
Low Rider Car in Chelsea gallery
I have seen cooler cars on the street in California but not in a Chelsea gallery.
Old door in Chelsea gallery
I have not seen a cooler door in a Chelsea gallery.
Jackie Winsor “Burnt Piece” in “Vital Signs: Artists and the Body” at MoMA
This great big cube was sitting out in the middle of the room at MoMA, part of “Vital Signs: Artists and the Body.” Before I knew it I was running my fingers along the boards , concrete and wire mesh. I was completely lost in the object, something that clearly had a history, when I heard the guard yelling, “No touching. No touching.” On the wall behind me, across from a Ana Mendieta performance video, a screen was playing, footage that captured the Canadian artist, Jackie Winsor, stuffing the piece with newspaper and surrounding it with wood before lighting it on fire.
Henri Matisse “The Back” MoMA sculpture garden
Gaston LaChaise’s “Floating Figure” used to sit on a pedestal in the Outdoor MoMA sculpture garden. I miss that but every time I visit Matisse’s ”The Back” the work gets better. Of course it is the same as it was 100 years ago but my appreciation of the form he constructed has only grown. It’s as if he decided to make it really difficult for himself. Figurative sculpture where the model has turned her back to him and flattened her form so he can show his mastery by pulling her form from the shallow slab of clay.
The nearby Whitney had free admission on Friday night so we stopped in after dinner and had another chance to see their Gaston LaChaise. It was only fitting that we finished our first night here devouring a HenryTaylor book in the hotel bar. The Meatpacking district is oh so arty now. “B Side,” the catalog from Taylor’s retrospective at MoCA LA was sitting on a shelf behind our table. Taylor is the reason we are in NewYork again, so soon after our last visit. We are here to pick up a print that was in his recent show at Hauser Wirth.
Saturday morning we had breakfast in a nearby diner and walked up the High Line to 18th Street where we began canvassing the galleries in Chelsea. We hit gold immediately with the Georgio Morandi show at Zwirner. It wasn’t that many years ago when we watched John Baldassari complete the purchase of a Morandi here. Morandi is a master. His landscapes, still-lifes and minimal abstractions are all luscious. We are not worthy.
Raoul De Keyser painting at Pace Gallery in Chelsea
“A De Keyser painting deliciously halts the human impulse to make meaning.” That is from a NYT review of Raoul De Keyser’s show here and I can’t do any better than that. The abstract Belgian painter who loved soccer had us giddy at this show.
We stopped at an Italian place, Don Giovanni’s on 10 Ave. for a beer. It was so comfortable in there I’m making note of the place. The owner said he’s been here 30 years now. It is an oasis. We must have stopped in thirty galleries and found Irving Penn photos on 26th Street, another master. We saturated ourselves with art.
We had dinner at another Spanish place, Salinas, where vegan blood sausage was on the menu. We sat at the bar and enjoyed an arugula salad, endives with anchovies and baked cod with spinach. Back in our hotel we watched Atlético beat Valencia 3-0 on my iPad.
We were fully prepared for a quiet night on Thursday but it was so crowded I had to wait in a long line to get a water before we started playing. Jason Wilder was there and George Wegman, from the Hangmen. There were plenty of new faces too which is always nice. Jack brought both his guitar and bass clarinet. He sounds great on both but during the break he told us he would probably just bring his clarinet next gig. So Margaret Explosion, with sax, bass clarinet, cello, double bass and drums and no guitar, is moving closer to a chamber punk outfit.
We shoveled again this morning before leaving home and I took a photo of our impressive piles. The one at the end of the driveway is now taller than I am. The temperature was 16 which makes for light fluffy snow, perfect for X-country skiing. I have been loving this winter so much, fresh snow every day and the crisp temperatures to support it, I really didn’t want to leave town. Kathy took us to the airport and as she pulled up to the Jet Blue gate she said, “I probably shouldn’t mention this but did you hear about the plane that rolled over at the Toronto airport?”
As we walked to our hotel we stopped to look at a wall of posters and while I was taking this photo a Black woman, about our age, walked by pulling one of those vertical shopping carts on two wheels. She shook her head and said, “Jazz ain’t dead.” A New York moment.
Altar at Our Lady of Guadalupe at St. Bernard /Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe en San Bernardo on W. 14th Street
The gate was open in front of Our Lady of Guadalupe at St. Bernard so we stopped in and studied the statues of the saints and the beautiful, three dimensional Stations of the Cross. We checked into the hotel and headed out to see some art. In Tribeca at 42 Walker four grand pianos were arranged in the center of the gallery, three self playing Yamaha Disklaviers and one silent antique Weber, similar to the one in the home where composer, Julius Eastman grew up. Glenn Ligon worked with Eastman’s estate to present the show entitled “Evil Nigger.”
Glenn Ligon “America” at 52 Walker in Tribeca2 Comments
We only crossed paths with three other x-country skiers today. The skate skier that wizzed by us said two words, “so good.” With three or four inches of fresh snow the conditions were excellent and it only got better once the groomer reconditioned the trails. This could be the best year yet for us.
I have not worn this playlist out yet. Compiled from the stack of 45s near our turntable. Spotify has clean copies!
Poster for Margaret Explosion gig, Thursday, February 20 at Little Theatre Café
Margaret Explosion has always been a loose conglomerate and it has altered its shape many times over the years. The line up will look a little different on Thursday and we will try to get to some new places with the sound. I hope you can stop out.
“Field Recording” from Margaret Explosion cd Field RecordingsLeave a comment
Shortly after we moved into our Hershey home the original owners stopped by to check on the house they built in the late forties. They told us they took down a red oak out front and had it milled for the hardwood floors in our living room. They shared some pictures of the two of them (husband and wife) laying the concrete blocks for our foundation. And this one, above, taken in the winter of 1966. Schools were closed for a week back then. Our piles are almost as big this year.
We have a fresh 7 or 8 inches since I took this photo. The snow was so deep yesterday we didn’t even make it up to the lake. We could hear it roaring though, big waves crashing on the ice mounds that have built up along the shore.
We heard five bands in the last six days. Kahil El’Zabar at Bop Shop, again, maybe the twentieth time we’ve seen him, New Dawn Trio at Sager-Stoneyard Pub (the crowd had no idea how good the band was), the guitar/cello duo Wren Cove at Red, White and Brew on State Street and later that night, Debby Kendrick Project at the Little Café. On Saturday we caught up with Daniel Aloysius King and Los Pajaritos, as close as we are going to get Spain for a while.
On our down time we watched “The Girl with the Needle,” on Rich’s recommendation. Easily last year’s best movie.
A long time ago people used to give people my age a hard time for putting a flag on your jacket or t-shirt and then one day we were in a golf clubhouse with my father-in-law and a guy walked in with American flag shorts. The rules change.
Peggi was expecting a package yesterday. She was notified around 6 PM that it had been delivered but she couldn’t find it. We looked all around the house and texted our neighbors to see if it went to the wrong address. The delivery notification showed a picture, the one on the left above. We couldn’t even figure out what we were looking at. The three black arches mystified us. I took the low res photo into Photoshop and messed with the levels. Still took a while to realize it was a picture of our mailbox out at the street with the bag inside of it. Isn’t it mail tampering for UPS to put stuff in your mailbox?
“Pimientos de Padron” by Margaret plosion from 1998 Invisible Idiot cd
Someday all nineteen songs on Margaret Explosion’s 1998 cd, “Invisible Idiot” will be illustrated. I did this one this afternoon with clips from restaurants in Spain and the famous chef, David Bouley, in action here at Wegman’s Next Door restaurant. Our nephew will one day be famous. He is shown here chopping garlic. We grew the Pimientos de Padrón shown above. Peggi Fournier plays soprano sax, Pete LaBonne plays electric bass and piano, Jack Schaefer plays xylophone, Paul Dodd plays drums and Shelley Valachovic plays shakers.
The new snow was sticky yesterday but the same snow, in today’s colder temperatures, was perfect. Peggi reminded me that it was Martin Luther King Day when we got our first ski of the year in and we have skied every day since. The blue skies today were stunning.
Debby Kendrick Project performing at Essex for Metro Justice Benefit
We changed course on Saturday night, Peggi’s birthday, and stopped in Essex to catch Debby Kendrick, our favorite band in town. It was a benefit for Metro Justice and I can’t think of a better cause at the moment. They were performing Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Goin’ On” when we walked in. The song never sounded better or more relevant.
