October 3, 2019
We spent a very pleasant two days in New York. As my inner German would say, "Ich habe mir die Füsse wundgelaufen"--I wore myself out walking! Nirmala, too, but she is apparently more fit than I am. 16-17,000 steps a day, however, ain't bad.
On our first day in New York we saw the musical "Come From Away," which received a Tony award. Everybody apparently likes it; for us, however it was just so-so. Very little characterization; the music was good, but not outstanding. An excellent feel-good choice for tired businessmen. (We are still trying to recapture our experience of the wonderful "The Band's Visit;" no comparison here).
After this, we headed for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We saw da Vinci's great unfinished painting, St. Jerome, on loan from the Vatican. The face of St. Jerome, which da Vinci completed, reminds me of the face of Nicodemus in a late sculpture by Michelangelo, The Deposition, or the Florentine Pietà. That face illustrates the power and dignity of human suffering better than any other work I know.
Da Vinci knew a thing or two about this as well, to say the least.
Both depict the difficulties (and transcendence) of old age. Yes, Bette Davis, this time of life is not for sissies. Maybe not as intense as in these two depictions; if your face, however, is old and is as yet unacquainted with the night, it might well be that of an arthritic Cheshire cat.
In da Vinci's painting, Jerome is looking to the side at a crucifix--the eternal symbol of hope in a world after hope in this one is no longer possible. (That other world, alas! is sure taking its time to arrive). How da Vinci was able to capture in painting what Bach captured in music, say, in the opening chorus of The Saint Matthew Passion, is nothing short of astounding.
After this, we headed for the Asian section to visit an old friend, the statue of Kwan-Yin, The Buddha Who Looks Down With Compassion (Avalokiteshvara). Sculpted in China over 1500 years ago, this face knew about suffering as well, yet has completely transcended it.
In the evening we attended a performance of Harold Pinter's "Betrayal." I must say I was exhausted after walking all day, and might have dozed off for a few moments. This was certainly not Pinter's or the actors' fault. The playwright's characteristic train-of-thought dialogue has aged well. The theme of the play is that everyone betrays everyone else including, perhaps primarily, oneself.
Our two days in New York were the beginning of a twelve day vacation. I expected to have a few days largely free of dealing with Trump's daily betrayals--emphasis on the 'largely.' The play somehow reminded me of Trump's duplicitous attempts to darken America's inner core, the light within. Once, when asked if he had ever asked God for forgiveness, Trump replied with something like, "Of course not. I never did anything wrong."
Yeah, right. If it were possible to add a bit more anguish to St. Jerome's face, Trump would be a good candidate to do it. There were Trumps in da Vinci's day, however, no doubt having added a few wrinkles onto the saint's face, painted by an old man of astonishing genius, who saw.
(On October 4th, we began a week's cruise, followed by two days in Quebec City. Our ship was the fuel-guzzling Queen Mary 2. Greta Thunberg, forgive us! Give us more time, O Time, to be more compassionate and to act more responsibly; support us awhile, O Time, before you decide, without a tick of conscience nor a tock of compassion, to recycle us. Further desultory observations will follow).
We spent a very pleasant two days in New York. As my inner German would say, "Ich habe mir die Füsse wundgelaufen"--I wore myself out walking! Nirmala, too, but she is apparently more fit than I am. 16-17,000 steps a day, however, ain't bad.
On our first day in New York we saw the musical "Come From Away," which received a Tony award. Everybody apparently likes it; for us, however it was just so-so. Very little characterization; the music was good, but not outstanding. An excellent feel-good choice for tired businessmen. (We are still trying to recapture our experience of the wonderful "The Band's Visit;" no comparison here).
After this, we headed for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We saw da Vinci's great unfinished painting, St. Jerome, on loan from the Vatican. The face of St. Jerome, which da Vinci completed, reminds me of the face of Nicodemus in a late sculpture by Michelangelo, The Deposition, or the Florentine Pietà. That face illustrates the power and dignity of human suffering better than any other work I know.
Da Vinci knew a thing or two about this as well, to say the least.
Both depict the difficulties (and transcendence) of old age. Yes, Bette Davis, this time of life is not for sissies. Maybe not as intense as in these two depictions; if your face, however, is old and is as yet unacquainted with the night, it might well be that of an arthritic Cheshire cat.
In da Vinci's painting, Jerome is looking to the side at a crucifix--the eternal symbol of hope in a world after hope in this one is no longer possible. (That other world, alas! is sure taking its time to arrive). How da Vinci was able to capture in painting what Bach captured in music, say, in the opening chorus of The Saint Matthew Passion, is nothing short of astounding.
After this, we headed for the Asian section to visit an old friend, the statue of Kwan-Yin, The Buddha Who Looks Down With Compassion (Avalokiteshvara). Sculpted in China over 1500 years ago, this face knew about suffering as well, yet has completely transcended it.
In the evening we attended a performance of Harold Pinter's "Betrayal." I must say I was exhausted after walking all day, and might have dozed off for a few moments. This was certainly not Pinter's or the actors' fault. The playwright's characteristic train-of-thought dialogue has aged well. The theme of the play is that everyone betrays everyone else including, perhaps primarily, oneself.
Our two days in New York were the beginning of a twelve day vacation. I expected to have a few days largely free of dealing with Trump's daily betrayals--emphasis on the 'largely.' The play somehow reminded me of Trump's duplicitous attempts to darken America's inner core, the light within. Once, when asked if he had ever asked God for forgiveness, Trump replied with something like, "Of course not. I never did anything wrong."
Yeah, right. If it were possible to add a bit more anguish to St. Jerome's face, Trump would be a good candidate to do it. There were Trumps in da Vinci's day, however, no doubt having added a few wrinkles onto the saint's face, painted by an old man of astonishing genius, who saw.
(On October 4th, we began a week's cruise, followed by two days in Quebec City. Our ship was the fuel-guzzling Queen Mary 2. Greta Thunberg, forgive us! Give us more time, O Time, to be more compassionate and to act more responsibly; support us awhile, O Time, before you decide, without a tick of conscience nor a tock of compassion, to recycle us. Further desultory observations will follow).
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