The Miami neighborhood offers a case study in gentrification: where hipsters once bopped, strollers now roam but it still remains Selfie Heaven, even for septuagenarians who should know better!
Photo shoots in Central Park can be just as creative, if less angular. There's a woman under that puddled blue dress.
A traffic light on Park Drive intensified the fall foliage colors.
En route to Little Bear Ridge Road, I passed Yvette Mayorga's "Magic Grasshopper" which celebrated '90s nostalgia in Times Square. Oh to be in my forties again!
Something about this new tower on the East Side keeps catching my eye.
I was passing through Madison Square on my way to pick up a coffee-table book about Salvatore Ferragamo only available at Rizzoli's.
Here's that skinny new tower again, from a different angle.
Florida weather began to look pretty tempting on a bitterly cold day at Columbus Circle.
But that's the thing about fall in New York: one day it's freezing, the next day it's not.
I never realized how good the people watching can be in Washington Square Park. You also can get high just by inhaling.
Thom told me a new walkway opened for pedestrians on the south side of the Edward Koch Bridge.
It offered views of Manhattan and Queens I'd never seen before.
Clouds enveloped the super talls near Columbus Circle while I biked to the theater district to see Oedipus, the best show I saw this season. Bye-bye Broadway until next spring.
Ghosts haunted the entrance to the Belnord on the Upper West Side for Halloween.
Thom and I celebrated our birthdays with a delicious but overpriced meal at Milo's and Hell's Kitchen afterwards. It finally made me an Alicia Keys fan.
I found myself back in Queens a week later for the Friendsgiving dinner that Thom hosted for our Fire Island Forever crowd after it had been postponed from Columbus Day due to bad weather. I made pumpkin cheesecake for the first time since 1988. My kitchen may never recover.
I also trekked to Soho to catch "Law and Order" at Jeffrey Deitch, a gallery show of works by Sam McKinniss, a Brooklyn-based gay artist who paints from photos. I get why he chose Jeremy Meeks
. . . but even a very young Marco Rubio seemed a little out of right field.
On Wooster Street, everything looks artistic.
Would you believe it's a half-century since Patti Smith released the incomparable "Horses?" Franz Gertsch painted these oversize portraits from photos he took when she performed in Cologne four years later.
Knowing I wouldn't be around for Christmas as usual, I wanted to make Thanksgiving in North Andover something special for Dagny, Della & Desi. When Magda and Zoltan were growing up, they loved examining the contents of "my secret drawer" at 47 Pianos, which I filled with things children might find interesting, including some items from my own childhood. "Why not make it portable for the D-Kids?" I thought, and introduce them to Andy Warhol by collaging it in reproductions of his art from an old datebook? Voila!
My strategy worked, thanks to an old case Chris gave me last winter when he began scanning his father's old circus slides. Della grabbed a tiny microphone; the frozen minute and second hands on my first Seiko wristwatch fascinated Dagny; and Desi ecstatically chased a battery-operated VW Beetle that reminded Magda of Herr Cucaracha even though it only spun doughnuts backwards. I'm pretty sure the D-Kids will be just as excited by the arrival of "Andy's Secret Case" next year.
T Lo, their grandfather, surprised me with another blast from our past: the postcards I sent to him and Audrey when I toured Australia. He and I had recently turned 30.
Although Zoltan, 35, couldn't make Thanksgiving this year, he had been Down Under himself just the month before. He visited many of the same places I had in a kind of generational chime 40 years later. Unlike me, however, he actually got to see a koala in the wild.
Twenty five more followed, including The Joffrey + Ballet in the U.S. at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts where I noticed this neon sculpture for the first time.
The exhibit included homoerotic footage from "Astarte," an innovative 1967 work that also used rock music.
Jenny Holzer made terrific use of the space at the Guggenheim.
Contemporary artists "reimaginged Himalayan art" for the last exhibit at the Rubin Museum before it went virtual.
. . . only to discover that the Museum of the City of New York was honoring a groundbreaking politician with integrity. At least I emerged with an early New Year's Resolution: find even more escape in friendship and art than usual. After the glorious but false promise of Barack Obama's election in 2008, American politics is beyond repair, at least in my lifetime.
The Whtiney's tribute to Alvin Ailey made me sorry I had missed my opportunity to see him perform back in the 70s. AIDS killed both Ailey and Robert Joffrey, whose company I did see perform thanks to Stuart, who was living with a dancer from the company when we met.
An exhibition of hip hop jewelry lured me to the American Museum of Natural History for the first time in 20 years but I enjoyed the incredible Insectarium a lot more. This piece belongs to A$AP Rocky.
Images from gay porn inspired "Sibilant Esses," a slew of dreamy portraits by Paul P. at the Greene Naftali gallery.
I don't think I saw a more thought-provoking exhibit all year than "Draw Them In, Paint Them Out" at the Jewish Museum, which displays "hood paintings" by two artists of different generations and races with congruent sensibilities.
Untitled by Philip Guston (1969)
"Let's Try the Yellow Triangle Angle or The Return of Piss Christ" by Trenton Doyle Hancock (2022)
. . . but I much preferred the superb retrospective of Elizabeth Catlett's extraordinary work in service of human equality.
"... And a special fear for my loved ones" (1946)
I wonder what Catlett would have had to say about this evocative illustration of our country's most famous novel, on exhibition in the newly reinstalled American art galleries? It ignores Jim's name in the title, as did Mark Twain, of course, an omission that Percival Everett finally has rectified in James! It's on my list and, it seems, on everyone else's too.
"Huck Finn" by Thomas Hart Benton (1936)
Tom crashed at 47 Pianos the night before attending a memorial service for Peter Westbrook, one of his fencing buddies. I took him to the Shed in Hudson Yards to see Luna Luna, the resurrection of a 1987 Pop Art amusement park.
Kenny Scharf is popping big at both Luna Luna and the Brant Foundation. One huge work is visible from the exterior of the building, an old Con Ed substation built more than a century ago.
"The Days of Our Lives" (1984)
47 Pianos had a rare and cuddly house guest in early October. Magda & Joe dropped off Moofy before celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary with a New York City getaway.
I forgot to take his picture until I stayed with them in Boston the night before Thanksgiving, after he'd just been shorn. Such a sweet--if occasionally pissy--pooch!
Manhattan walkabouts--to and from matinees or museums--always provide surprises. En route to Once Upon A Mattress, I encountered "The Chair" by Iván Tovar.
Catholic brotherhoods of Peruvian origin celebrated El Señor de los Milagros (the Lord of Miracles) in midtown as I returned from Maybe Happy Ending, blocking traffic as the long procession crossed Sixth Avenue.
Hudson Yards offers a mammoth backdrop for "A Journey" one of several sculptures by Oliver Lee Jackson that greets visitors to the High Line. The development's new buildings dwarf the Vessel, now open again (and netted).
There's still a lot of construction going on below.
At sunset, the World Trade Center looks almost ethereal from the West Village.
I guess the residents of this East Side townhouse had nowhere else to put her . . .
The Oculus and one of the 9/11 Memorial pools, under repair, looked beautiful the night I caught "Queen Bitch" at the Perelman Center for the Performing Arts.