The low and the High of it.

New York is the kind of place where people express themselves in superlatives. All or nothing. In Manhattan's Nolita neighborhood: “The Best Tiramisu In The World,” declares the sign. Tallest, biggest, best. You can be reborn. Shed your previous life, previous definitions, previous loan. It’s all about the here and now, and really making it. It’s the immigrant experience, writ large.



The sheer range of restaurants flabbergasts me each time I visit. The reinventing continues in many if not most of the city’s kitchens. Viagra empanadas, or smoked salmon roll with Idaho potato flakes, anyone? I actually tasted the former, which are, unsurprisingly, a lot tamer than they sound.



The urge to modify is not new. The (kosher) bagel dog which was developed (way back) in 1943 comes to mind. Still on the dog front, some claim Brooklyn's Coney Island to be the birthplace of the now-ubiquitous American hotdog, tucked in its white bread roll (and yes, frankfurters and wieners already had their homes in Frankfurt and Vienna).

 

Incidentally, "Coney Island dogs", with their beanfree, beef-heart chili topping, have nothing whatsoever to do with the original oceanfront Coney Island. They’re from Michigan.



As of this summer, you can once again have a hot dog at a newly opened Coney Island Luna Park. But it isn’t the Luna Park of 1903, which by 1907 had 1.3 million little electric lights, live elephant rides and a whole mess of other madcap, escapist possibilities. This was way back when it was feasible to be 22 acres in size in NYC, and this while cheek to jowl by two other pioneering parks, Dreamland and Steeplechase. Coney Island was quite simply the birthplace of the American amusement park, and as such an epicenter of a certain kind of pop culture.



Today, the blandification on offer by Mayor Bloomberg & co. translates (as of February) to the current Luna Park being owned by Central Amusement International (majority shareholder: Italian Zamperla which produced the brand-new rides and will manage the park). As of November 1st, the conglomerate has seen fit to evict 9 of the 11 long-standing, honky-tonk operations on the boardwalk. Every single one of the boardwalk places I saw and photographed last week (and which are shown here) will have to vacate their premises within the coming two weeks. They are yesterday.



The owners of Luna Park explained that it was looking to “extend its vision of a resurgent Coney Island.” It seems their vision involves a sports bar, sit-down restaurants, and retail.

Even the Cyclone is at risk. A legendary, clattery wood roller coaster inaugurated in 1927 and still in use today, its fate is also in the hands of Central Amusement International and Zamperla, who hold a ten-year lease on the land.

This process of cleaning up--and out--Coney Island reminded me uncomfortably of walking by the Victoria’s Secret, American Eagle Outfitter, Gap(s) et al. thronging the streets of SoHo. I was having trouble finding the galleries, as SoHo veers ever closer to being a tastefully sanitized outdoor mall. Ditto for Times Square, with its Ann Taylor Loft and Aeropostale clothing emporiums, Pop-Tarts World (where you can feast on Pop-Tarts sushi), the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company and so on. I don’t want to become overly nostalgic about 1970s city grit and seediness, but man, I just wish they wouldn’t keep throwing out authenticity with the bathwater.



At least Times Square has its Naked Cowboy, who knows how to keep it real. He sued Mars Inc. in 2008 for trademark infringement (because yes, folks, he owns the “international” trademark to being kinda naked and playing a guitar). They’d had the gall to have the blue M&M play a guitar, similarly cowboy-hatted and kinda undressed. In a cartoon. Mars settled for undisclosed terms. Now the Naked Cowboy’s suing the Naked Cowgirl, a bawdy busker who refuses to become a paying franchisee of his, which would cost her $5k per annum. The Naked Cowboy claims that continuing as she does, she may bring about “a potentially permanent devaluation on a real American Brand and Icon.”

This latest lawsuit may not have his full attention though, since, on October 6, he officially declared--fully dressed-- that he would be running for President of the United States in 2012. On the Tea Party ticket. All the presidential merchandise you could wish for is already available for sale at his official website, where you can find his DVDs, i-Tunes downloads, his self-published book, and the Naked Cowboy Workout Method. That last one’s free, actually. Oh, and he’s an ordained minister, so he can marry you, if you swing that way. That’s a lot less free.  All of this with the aim of becoming "the most celebrated entertainer in the world."

Do I sound a touch bitter about all this? Can I legitimately be a critic? I did, after all, go home with a pair of Gap jeans, and maybe a t-shirt or two…But sometimes changes just feel wrong, sometimes people go too far.



Other times, changes feel very right. In the plus column goes New York City’s High Line, which I truly love.



I love the concept (old, unused raised railway turned aerial park), I love the wild grasses they’ve encouraged to grow, and the sense of immediate, pure escape that comes over me when I walk it. I love that the existing railway was integrated into the new structure, and that the neighborhood through which it runs is clearly reinvigorated by its presence. I love that lovers of astronomy set their telescopes up there on certain propitious nights. The High Line is a poem in mid-air, where children come for Halloween fun and the fabulous stroll come summertime.  



And they haven’t even finished building it. Gives me something to look forward to.

More thoughts, views and tips on New York:

- My Endless New York, by Tony Judt

- 36 Hours in NYC, from the Travel Section, NYT
- The Secret Subway Stop, from Yahoo News
- New York, I Love You, the film (Natalie Portman, Andy Garcia, et al.)

- Three new books on NYC

Rooms with a view and a bit more.

A table for two, with a view of the San Gabriel mountains.

The J. Paul Getty Trust, with its $4.2 billion endowment (from oil--what else?), is the world's richest art institution and the one the other museums love to hate due to its ability to outbid anyone, inflating art world prices along the way. The Getty Center is its $1 billion+ Richard Meier-designed showpiece, which serenely watches over Los Angeles and the Pacific Ocean from its 110-acre hillside perch. How does one go about spending that kind of money? For starters, while there is a charge for parking, there's no entrance fee (in 2008 they welcomed 1.8 million visitors) in this museum that houses a large collection of Western art and decorative arts (like the amazing French clock below--see that clambering monkey?). The pieces date from the Middle Ages to the present. There are the Caravaggios, the Rembrandts, the Renoirs, the Picassos, just to name-drop a bit. Then there are the series of pavilions themselves, built using more than 16,00 tons of Italian Travertine marble and the white metal panel cladding favored by Meier. This is the antithesis of Frank Gehry's effervescent Bilbao Guggenheim. While grand by virtue of sheer scale, long sightlines and the measured balance of its curves and straight lines, the Getty Center is above all serene. You slow down, your eyes have room to travel.

Paul Gauguin also sculpted.

The art has room to breathe--and plenty of gorgeous natural light. Photos are allowed (!), without flash--except of photos on exhibit (?). The architect used a lot of white, somewhat broken up by pools of water and when you move from one building to another, the brightness really startles. It must be simply blinding in summer. If it rains, there are umbrellas at the ready door-side. If you become hungry (this easily becomes a day-long visit), the food options are good, but bringing a picnic seems only natural given the space and seating options.

Detail of a painting by Franz Winterhalter.

I didn't have the kind of time I would have liked to explore the gardens, but as you can see in the well-illustrated and described post by the Intercontinental Gardener, they are sumptuous and original.

If old paintings leave you cold, there are the buildings. If architecture isn't your deal, there are the gardens. If gardens don't rock your world, there is the view, from innumerable vantage points, indoors and out. If I had to do it over, I would have stayed for the sunset; on Saturdays after 5 pm there is no fee for parking. How the sprawling LA nightscape must glitter.

Bricks and mortar, Praha style.

Accepting that there were real limits on my time in Prague, I forced my culinary passion to take a back seat, and allowed my feet to take over. No blisters this time, but my, what a wonderful city in which to have a good wander. Merely keep your attention directed away from the predictable tourist claptrap, and it becomes a dream of a city, with buildings for every taste, a living and breathing Architecture 101.

Here's a bit of a grab-bag of impressions of my stay. I didn't necessarily include the most famous landmarks, but you can easily find those in any decent guidebook online or off. These were just some of what I experienced and enjoyed, and I hope you'll also enjoy browsing through them.

Understatement at the State Opera.

This stairway, between two buildings, was considered so narrow that someone (with both a sense of humor and an awareness of average tourists' waistlines) had pedestrian stoplights installed.

A coffeehouse as Edward Hopper would imagine it, complete with 1950s feel and slightly greenish lighting.

You can see the effort made to restore this building facade to its former glory. The city has gone from its Communist-era soot-black coating to a virtual rainbow of colors.

Such distinct styles for each...

I strongly recommend stopping at the Municipal House (above) for a coffee--they come in triangular shaped cups. As unexciting as its name sounds, it is a real Art Nouveau gem, inside and out, down to the smallest detail. You can go have a peek downstairs also, where there is a gorgeous bar. The tilework in the hallways is jaw-dropping. If you find out ahead of time, you can join the building tour, which is apparently also quite interesting. Avoid the "concerts" however, as they're disappointingly low-grade, featuring just a barebones "orchestra"--meaning four or five instruments--meant to draw in a bit of extra money only, and failing at that. Pity, as the space is quite nice.

In addition to the remarkable Astrological Clock and its many moving parts (above), another uniquely Prague feature is the presence of the so-called Cubist architecture. In the architectural order of things, Cubism came about in the early 20th century, and it preceded Art Nouveau, which in turn was followed by Art Deco, roughly speaking. While there is some argument about what Cubist architecture really consists of, you can just avoid all the fuss and check out some of the buildings for yourself.

A good start is the House of the Black Madonna, originally built as a department store. While looking at the building's exterior, you may be underwhelmed by its Cubism, expecting something a little more garishly Picasso-esque. In fact, the city insisted that the building blend in a bit with its Baroque neighbors. Go to the small Museum Shop for some beautiful examples of Cubist theory in craft (furniture and porcelain), but don't miss the cafe upstairs, which is claimed to be the only remaining Cubist interior in the world.There is also the 1996 Frank Gehry "deconstructivist" structure, nicknamed the Fred and Ginger building (above). It was designed to leave the city view of the existing buildings unimpeded. I love the ingenuity and energy it exudes. What do you think?

So-called modern work can sometimes be a bit of a mixed bag, in Prague as elsewhere. In front of the Kafka museum, which is helpfully indicated by two enormous capital Ks, there are two full-size statues with continuously swiveling body sections (see photo below). Even the penises go up and down--while urinating continuously into a pool the shape of the Czech Republic. Hmm. A wry bit of anti-nationalist comment--or had the sculptor drunk too much Czech beer? Given the time constraints, it was impossible for me to see everything; I entirely missed the Jewish quarter, with its old cemetery, pictured below. There's enough in Prague for a return visit, in the off-season...

Please note that the photos of the Astrological Clock, the Gehry "Fred and Ginger" building, and the old Jewish Cemetery were taken by the talented Paolo Rosa.

Update:
There is an interesting New York Times article about the Prague Golem and its resurgence in today's times of worry.