vip in the city

The Gershwin Hotel

A couple of months ago, AC mentioned an event that takes place every Autumn on the rooftop of The Gershwin Hotel: The Finnish Sauna Fest. For one night, the hotel recreates a Finnish sauna under a massive tent, from which fest attendees sip chilled vodka, and admire the Manhattan skyline (and more discreetly: their fellow revelers’ towel-clad forms) while Finnish DJs spin tunes.

Montreal hotelier Urs Jakob, whose family immigrated to the United States from Switzerland, has a history of promoting the Finnish aesthetic. Jakob acquired what was in 1993 another condemned welfare hotel and renovated it over the next several years into its current form. In 1997, he commissioned Finnish artist Stefan Lindfors to create an installation for the building’s façade. And so was born the hotel’s now signature permanent exterior sculpture installation: “Tongues & Flames“: interior-lit stainless steel frames covered with fiberglass and clear-cast resin, that protrude whimsically out the front of the 13-story hotel, evoking… well, you know. The first two tongues/flames bracketing the Gershwin’s main entrance were unveiled in Summer 1997.

No information yet on Finnish Sauna Fest 2006…

The Two and Only

I had a pair of tickets to see Jay Johnson’s one-man, several-puppet show and invited along B, with whom I’d felt a bit out of touch these couple of weeks. It gave us a chance to reconnect, which was nice. He arrived at my apartment early, bearing gifts from his recent business trip to Austin: souvenirs from my favorite Texas barbecue joint, The Salt Lick. Sweet!

The Two and Only was advertised as a showcase for the ventriloquist, best known for his supporting role on the controversial 1970s sitcom Soap. I don’t generally have a lot of interest in ventriloquists — the whole artform seems a bit antiquated in this era of CGI special effects, and I’ll admit it: the dummies — sorry: “wooden Americans,” as Johnson offers — creep me out a little. But Jay Johnson was a true master of his craft. Over the course of the 90-minute intermission-less show, he played straight-man to a host of vivid characters that emerged from baskets and trunks — and in the most imaginative bit: a dry erase board — strewn about the Helen Hayes Theatre stage: a severed head, Amigo the snake (pictured below — poorly, but it was the best I could manage), Nethernore the vulture, Spaulding the tennis ball, Darwin the manic monkey, his first professional partner, Squeaky and his former Soap  co-star, Bob.

A hilarious sequence revolved around the fact that “Bob” was named by a writer who “obviously knew nothing about ventriloquism”. Well, not quite so obviously to an audience of similarly ignorant non-ventriloquists. But as Johnson explained: “B” is an implosive consonant, which forces one’s lips to move to pronounce it – the downfall of any ventriloquist. During one rapid-fire exchange between Johnson and Bob, enormous pains were taken to steer Bob from the letter “B.” (Johnson pulled it off eventually, though, and brilliantly. “Bastards!“)

Johnson delivered a brief history of ventriloquism and an explanation of the mechanics of “voice-throwing,” interwoven with an autobiographical account of his humble beginnings in show business as a kid working the lodge circuit in Abernathy, Texas. Aside from being enormously talented, Johnson came off as a genuinely friendly, sentimental guy. The most moving parts of the evening recounted his acquaintance and long distance mentorship under a retired vaudevillian named Arthur Sieving, who carved Johnson his first dummy.

Johnson appears to be one of that rare breed who manages to carve a successful career out of a childhood dream — and there’s quite an inspiration in that.

Manny & Mozart

Pianist Emanuel Ax was performing an all Mozart program with the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra at Carnegie Hall tonight, celebrating the 250th anniversary of the birth of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791) and the 30th anniversary of Ax’s first collaboration with the conductorless ensemble.

Ax first came to the public’s attention in 1974 when, at 25, he won the first Arthur Rubinstein International Piano Competition in Tel Aviv. Since that auspicious start, Ax has gone on to win numerous awards, including the Avery Fisher Career Grant (awarded annually since 1982 to outstanding solo instrumentalists) and several Grammys: two for his solo recordings and five for collaborations with Yo-Yo Ma, Jaime Laredo, and Isaac Stern.

That afternoon, I placed a call to the Carnegie Hall Box Office and was surprised to learn that there were still seats available to that night’s performance. Better still, they were offering last minute $10 (cash only) tickets. At that price, it didn’t even matter where in the Hall the seats were: we were going to Carnegie Hall!

SYB left the office early to pick up the tickets. After he and I met up for a quick pre-concert bite – one booth over from Atoosa Rubenstein – it was off for an evening of Mozart.

I don’t know why, I don’t know how… but here we are again: second row center! From our seats, we were close enough to see the flying hammers reflected in the propped, glossy lid of the grand Steinway.

Ax’s playing was “fluid, elegant and refined,” as the New York Times noted in their glowing review of the concert. I was intrigued by how the leaderless Orpheus managed to keep their playing even and well-tempered, especially during some of the pieces’ more fluid, running segments. A different core group shapes each piece, shifting seating assignments and providing cues for their respective sections. The process requires almost twice as many rehearsals, but allows the individual ensemble players opportunities for input not possible in a conductored grouping.

Beginning on Friday, October 13, and through January 7, 2007, the Morgan Library is also celebrating the 250th anniversary of Mozart’s birth with an exhibition entitled “Mozart at 250: A Celebration,” tracing the great composer’s life through manuscripts, letters, and first editions of his works. Works among the always impressive collection include tonight’s “Haffner” Symphony, K. 385  [1782–83], in the velvet and silver case in which it was housed when it was presented to King Ludwig II of Bavaria in 1865. I remember this from the last time I was in the manuscript room, a couple of months ago. Also on display:

Other manuscripts from the Vienna years include those of the somber Fugue for Two Pianos in C Minor, K. 426, Mozart’s only keyboard fugue of any distinction; two of his best-known piano concertos — in C, K. 467, and D (“Coronation”), K. 537; Der Schauspieldirektor (The Impresario), the only manuscript of a Mozart opera in this country; the Piano Rondo in D, K. 485, known to piano students around the world; the Horn Concerto in E-flat, K. 495, written in four different colors of ink; and the arrangement for voice, violin, and piano of Cherubino’s aria “Non so più cosa son” from Le nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro), the only complete arrangement of an operatic number Mozart is known to have made.

The exhibition ends with the exceedingly rare first edition of the Requiem, K. 626, left incomplete at Mozart’s death.

I’m constantly amazed by the sheer depth of Mr. Morgan’s collection. Definitely checking this out.