vip in the city

Under the FDR

I had planned to attend the opening reception for Scott Alger’s: (un)Fashion at the PhotoGraphic Gallery on Front Street, but by the time I made it over to the Seaport after work, I couldn’t bring myself to head back indoors. As Autumn approaches, there’s just a little less sunlight to enjoy after work each day.

Also, the NY Brewfest was taking place at Pier 16 & 17. The festival is a celebration to recognize the Empire State Brewery Trail. On hand to showcase samplings of their craft were representatives from the 58 breweries, microbreweries and brew pubs around the state.

I didn’t have a Brewfest ticket – and really wasn’t in the mood for so much brew – but I did stick around to catch the performance on the Seaport stage by Bernie Clarke and the Rhythm Sharks.

I strolled uptown along the East River and noted the dramatic changes taking place on this once forlorn and desolate stretch. In early 2003, New York City laid the groundwork for an ambitious new effort to redesign the East River waterfront from Battery Park to East River Park – complementing the West Side piers redevelopment project. Check out the ambitious plans for the East River Waterfront Esplanade, which were unveiled last May.

Passed the Old, Peck, Catherine and Market Slips, remnants of the area’s ship haven history. But what to call these cobblestoned streets that run under and alongside the FDR Drive, North of the Seaport, East of TriBeCa? The runner-up in Curbed’s 2005 “‘Hoodwinked contest” (in which participants were invited to submit neighborhood names of their own creation) suggested “The Nightie Drawer.” After all the “slips” – get it?

Though I have to admit that the contest winner, RAMBO (Right After the Manhattan Bridge Overpass), is pretty brilliant:

Name: RAMBO
Submitted By: Heath Binder & Adam Wills
Boundaries: Right After the Manhattan Bridge Overpass. The neighborhood stretching between Tillary Street and York Steet, north of the Manhattan Bridge
Description: Ever been to DUMBO? Nice, isn’t it, with all of the fancy restaurants, the waterfront views, the arts scene. If you cross north over the Manhattan Bridge, however, you’re still in the same zip code (11201), and people (realtors) still refer to the neighborhood as DUMBO, but it’s, well, a little different from the high-priced condo haven. For starters, Fresh Direct won’t deliver to “our part” of the zip code. Two, our closest 24-hour store is the McDonalds on Tillary Street. Three, we’ve got the projects. The neighborhood is nice and green and hell, my rent is great compared to what I’d be paying for space on the South side of the bridge, considering that I’m literally a three-minute walk from it, but I think it deserves a moniker which appropriately reflects its grittiness. We are still industrial, you know.

Opera for All!

Thanks to SYB’s ticket-seeking tenacity last month, we snagged a pair of prime seats to the opening night of New York City Opera’s Opera-for-All Festival.

Second Row Center! Again!

I had attended 2005’s inaugural festival with B, so I knew that we were in store for a series of stellar performances. This year’s lineup did not disappoint – sort of a “Greatest Hits” of the upcoming opera season. Each piece opened with an introduction by NYC Opera Music Director/guest conductor, George Manahan, who provided both context and history for the novice-heavy audience. There were the usual crowd pleasers: the drinking song from La traviata; a quintet from Carmen; and the big finale: “Quando m’en vo” — Musetta’s waltz from La bohème. In between, there were several wonderful performances that had the crowd alternately cheering and weeping in appreciation, including “Una furtive lagrima” from Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore – one of the best loved and most touching Bel Canto arias. As Manahan noted: “It’s great to be a tenor!”

There was a surprise insertion of the “The William Tell Overture,” (an example of Rossini‘s more serious, later work) which sent a rippling murmur of recognition through the audience after the opening bars, and a hammy ensemble performance of “When the foreman bares his steel” from Gilbert & Sullivan’s The Pirates of Penzance.

Although I just recently signed up for a series subscription at The Met (which lowered ticket prices this year in an attempt to draw new audiences), I am also interested in NYC Opera’s multimedia production of Die tote Stadt, Erich Wolfgang Korngold‘s operatic masterpiece. Korngold is the composer often credited with creating the modern Hollywood film score, for which he won two Academy Awards in the 1930s.

We made our way to the New York State Theater mezzanine after the concert, following the crush of the capacity crowd and the sound of blaring rock guitars and drums. Hey, it’s the East Village Opera Company (EVOC)!

Earlier in the day, I sent an email to LP, rightly figuring that she would be at tonight’s performance to support her boyfriend, EVOC’s lead singer. She responded right away, and we agreed to look out for one another at the afterparty. Not quite so easy: the floor was filled with throngs of revelers, rocking out in full appreciation of the high-energy, updated opera classics (and the free food and wine.)

LP spotted me first, and we were able to catch up on our summers and share some office scuttlebutt, though I did feel a tad rude shouting over her boyfriend’s super-amped vocals. Turns out she was in Hong Kong a couple of months after I was, accompanying the band towards the end of their Asia tour. This Fall, the EVOC has bookings throughout the country, in Canada and in Mexico. And in 2007: South America! Forget tenors: it’s great to be a rock star!

SYB deduced that LP had played the lead in the performance of Broadway’s Miss Saigon he attended in 2000 — TR had left the cast by then. Small world! After EVOC’s set, LP brought us up past the gaggle of groupies to congratulate TR on his performance. He graciously agreed to sign EVOC’s eponymous CD that SYB purchased that night.

At one point, wandering around the party, I overheard some snarky comments from beneath the mezzanine tiers. I turned to locate the source, which turned out to be a gathering of divos from this evening’s concert. Also tonight’s Musetta — whose real name is Elizabeth Caballero. Not knowing that at the time, I greeted her, “Hey, Musetta!”, and added “You were great up there!” She smiled, “Thanks,” and we made small talk for about a minute before I left her to continue mouthing along to the lyrics of the EVOC’s performance. Tough crowd.

Real Life Entertaining

SN and I met up after work so we could attend together NYU’s Open House/information session being held at the nearby Woolworth Building. The lobby is one of the most beautiful interior spaces in New York City. Sadly, like so many other public spaces, it too was closed off for security reasons after September 11. We were required to come into the building through the Barclay Street entrance, completely bypassing the grand, high arches I remember from those pre-2001 days.

SYB was already there, considering the offerings at the School of Continuing and Professional Studies. After a quick tour among the tables, I spied IG, the superstar of our Russian I class, by the refreshments table. After some quick catching up, I left her with SN to discuss course registration strategy. I hope to see them both again in two weeks, when Russian II starts up for the Fall. NYU requires a minimum enrollment of six people to hold the class; after tonight, we’re already halfway there. Fingers crossed…

SYB was leaving the event also, so I invited him to tag along to the book party for Jennifer Rubell’s Real Life Entertaining. (SYB is all about the real life entertaining, after all.) We took the subway uptown to The Conran Shop, in Bridgemarket, tucked in the shadow of the Queensboro Bridge. This design-conscious home furnishings store opened in 1999, but I’d never had an occasion to make the special trip out there until now.

According to last week’s New York Times profile about The Conran Shop, the foot-traffic unfriendly location results in the cavernous, bi-level glass and steel space remaining empty most of the time. Technically, the store may have been open for shopping, but almost everyone there tonight seemed to be there for the party.

Jennifer Rubell is the niece of nightlife kingpin Steve Rubell, who co-founded the legendary Studio 54. Professional entertaining is her legacy: her family runs three Miami-area hotels (The Beach House, The Greenview and The Albion) and The Rubell Family Collection, a museum housing the world’s largest private family collection of contemporary art.

By the time we made our way past the clipboarded name-checkers, the cooking demonstration had already started downstairs. Rubell seemed to be about five minutes into the preparation of her quick and easy “Summer Tuna Spectacular,” featuring seared tuna with diced olives, tomatoes and capers. She talked the audience through the demonstration, offering creative ideas and helpful tips. (“Always cut meat against the grain for maximum tenderness!”) Though she probably caters to a similar demographic, I found Rubell far, far less grating than Rachael Ray.

Fair warning: any comments which include the terms “E.V.O.O.” and/or “Yum-o” will be deleted — no exceptions. Violators will be scorned.

One of the party sponsors was Rose’s Cocktail Infusions: purveyors of multi-colored fruit-flavored drink mixers. After Rubell’s segment, a bartender came up front to demonstrate the recipes a couple of prettily-hued specialty drinks featuring Rose’s mixer, both of which were also being served up at the bar stations around the floor.

Watermelon, Cranberry, Mango, Apple, and Blue Raspberry. I’m sure I do not understand the reasoning behind this quiz, but you can take it anyway to find out which Rose’s Cocktail Infusion suits your personal style. I’m a “Watermelon Trendsetter!”

After the two demos, there was plenty of time to wander among the cool Conran stock as the trays of hors d’oeuvres circulated. I actually found quite a few items I liked… if I had at least thrice the space and ten times the money I do now.

Dinner at English pub Baker Street, and then we crossed town to meet CS at our long-neglected local watering hole. Things there got pretty interesting, despite the absence of our friend, Bartender Paul (who is only on duty Mondays, Tuesdays and Saturdays.)

At one point in the evening I approached the bar to request a glass of water, and two men (both named Rob) sitting nearby began to strike up a conversation with me. One seemed vaguely familiar-looking, and as he and I continued to chat, a few details began to emerge from the haze of my memory. Yes, Riverside Drive, Morgan Stanley, Canadian…. Finally, after a pause, Rob commented, “You know… uh, we’ve met before.”

“Oh? Hmm, I thought so…”

“Yes. The last time, you were here with your lesbian friend.”

Ah. I should note here that “the last time” was well over a year and a half ago, and that although this was the first occasion she has been referred to me as such, I immediately recognized that the woman Rob was talking about was M. Dear M – from here on, known as my lesbian friend, haha! M(LF) and I were at Peter’s that late night so long ago, no doubt post-morteming our respective love life disasters.

Needless to say, she must have made quite the impression.