vip in the city

Stand clear of the closing doors

At the New York Transit Museum tonight for the opening reception of “Collages by Chris Pelletiere,” touted as “the first complete presentation of this series of subway collages” by this painter, illustrator, and cartoonist. The works on display were inspired by charcoal sketches made in 2003 during the artist’s commute from his home in New Jersey to his job at the Museum of Modern Art.

I’d been to the museum annex gallery a few times but never to the main site in Brooklyn Heights. How fitting that a museum dedicated to the history of the city’s rail transportation would be housed in a decommissioned (but still operational) subway station at the corner of Boerum Place and Schermerhorn Street. The Court Street station was opened in 1936 as part of the Independent Subway (IND) as the western terminus of the the Court Street Shuttle service to the (still operational) Hoyt-Schermerhorn Street station, just three blocks away. Plans to extend the line beyond Court Street – as a potential route to the new Second Avenue Subway – were abandoned, due to budget constraints. Because of low passenger use and the ready availability of several nearby alternate stations, the Court Street station was officially closed to passengers on June 1, 1946. For the next three decades, the station was used for training, supply storage, and commercial film shoots before becoming the permanent site of the New York Transit Museum in 1976.

After perusing the collages on display, I turned to the century’s worth of memorabilia housed at the museum collection, among them a fascinating display of antique turnstiles devices used by the MTA through the years.

And down the stairs, the highlight: a vintage collection of subway and elevated train cars, refurbished by New York City Transit’s Division of Car Equipment — two entire tracks full, all open for exploration. Very cool!

I learned that several of the cars are even operational, and are sent out for special “Nostalgia Train Rides” throughout the year. Trips planned for the summer include “Summer Celebration at Rockaway Park” (Sunday, July 22), “Coney Island Caper” (Sunday, August 12) and “IND Anniversary September Special: A Day on the A” (Saturday, Sept 8). I have got to sign up for one of these.

The unusually brief hours of museum operation make a weekday visit all but impossible, save for these special after-hour events. The museum is, however, open on weekends, 12:00PM – 5:00PM, during which a return visit is in order, if only for the trains.

Three simple words

Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve had the luxury of several uninterrupted hours in which to finally, finally complete Ian McEwan’s Atonement – a book who first 50 pages I’ve reread perhaps half a dozen times over the past few years, without ever progressing much beyond that point. My reasons for the false starts are inexplicable: I’ve read several other novels from start to finish in the interim, but somehow this one — which many critics consider to be McEwan’s masterpiece — eluded me. There may have been some subconscious aversion at work; perhaps I associated the book with the time in my life I acquired it, and just kept setting it aside, like so many other things.

McEwan’s book was shortlisted for the Booker Prize for Fiction in 2001, ultimately losing the top prize to Peter Carey’s True History of the Kelly Gang. At the time, many felt that McEwan had been handicapped by having won the prestigious prize just three years earlier for Amsterdam. The same year he was passed over for the Booker, the Whitbread Novel Award was presented to Patrick Neate for Twelve Bar Blues in a decision Neate himself considered an upset. Nonetheless Atonement did go on to become an international bestseller and to collect several other honors including the National Book Critics Circle Award, the WH Smith Literary Prize, the Los Angeles Times Prize for Fiction, the Santiago Prize for the European Novel and “the People’s Booker.”

So a couple of weeks ago, with endless hours of solitude ahead of me, I decided to tackle this work once and for all. It’s not difficult reading; McEwan’s richly evocative descriptions build the narrative slowly at first, but once the plot was set in motion, I was riveted.

Having just turned the stunning, final page, I can say that I loved this book. Structure-wise, the story is organized into three parts — set in 1935, 1940, and 1999 — and hinges upon the misunderstandings and betrayals of one summer night and their tragic ramifications. I won’t say much more for fear of spoiling it for the others I know among you who haven’t read it yet. But do read it, and we’ll compare notes, off the blog. People still do that, sometimes, I think.

The film adaptation, which reunites star Keira Knightley with her Pride & Prejudice director Joe Wright, is scheduled for release in September 2007. The Internet Movie Database describes the movie as “based on the British romance novel by Ian McEwan.” Hmm… for me, “romance novel” always seems to carry with it rather Harlequin-esque associations, which I don’t think captures the essence of the story. The publisher describes Atonement as a “symphonic novel of love and war, childhood and class, guilt and forgiveness.”

And yet:

Finally he spoke the three simple words that no amount of bad art or bad faith can ever quite cheapen. She repeated them, with exactly the same slight emphasis on the second word, as though she had been the one to say them first. He had no religious belief, but it was impossible not to think of an invisible presence or witness in the room, and that these words spoken out loud were like signatures on an unseen contract.

*sigh*

Looking forward to McEwan’s scheduled appearance at the 92nd Street Y on June 5.

The power of the press

Shopping at my local Fairway — and on a Sunday afternoon! — is a somewhat less pleasantly civilized experience than I imagine it would be in Red Hook. But I had no choice: there was a dish to prepare for SYB’s pot luck dinner this evening, and no groceries at home with which to prepare it. Like one girding herself for battle, I decided to treat myself beforehand to a brief detour at newly opened Grom, the first American outpost of a popular Italian artisinal gelateria chain, about which I’d read so much recently. What could be finer on such a beautiful, sunny day?

As I neared my intended destination, there was a noticeable thickening in pedestrian traffic. My pace slowed as I reached the corner of Broadway and 76th Street, until…

Yikes.

Clearly, I was not the only one with the same idea — not by a long shot. I should have anticipated as much: the thought had been planted firmly and enticingly in our collective consciousness in a week-long media blitz of publicity: New York magazine. A profile in the Times dining section. Time Out New York. Gothamist.

The crush was unavoidable and inevitable. Paired with the sudden arrival of one of those perfect spring afternoons that New York City will sometimes produce, it meant that there was no way I was getting my cup of quality gelato today — not unless I was willing to brave the madding crowd for at least an hour. Which I was not. But gee, those that did wait it out sure looked happy.

Haven’t seen such lines since… well, since the weekend Beard Papa opened its first NYC creampuff shop in 2004, just two doors up from Grom’s current spot.

With apologies to O. Henry, “after this can any one doubt the power of the press?“