November in Manhattan

 

Exit Covid, enter Trump! One disaster replacing another.

Mid-November, this was the opinion of many of my New York City friends.  I spent a week in Manhattan, my usual Fall visit.  Covid has not totally gone, but a reminder of the pandemic was being taken away: most of Manhattan Covid dining sheds were being removed.  During the pandemic, with the city blessing, these street sheds blossomed.  They were a lifeline for restaurants.  Officially called Open Restaurants, these airy street-side shacks provided un semblant of protection against the aggressive virus.  During my routine Fall and Spring visits, I patronized them, lunch or dinner al fresco, or semi-fresco for most of them.  Many sheds were eyesores; however, some were very cozy, welcoming, often even nicer than the indoor restaurant.

They were popular with patrons and restaurateurs; on the other hand, many city drivers opposed them as legal land grab.  Now, the city wants its street-parking space back and some 12 000 shacks are being demolished.  A few restaurants are requesting licenses to build fair weather structures like those known in Paris. 

On the other hand, Trump never left the scene.  The extent of Kamala Harris drubbing left Democrat-leaning NYC in a state of shock.  During my stay, the blame game was in full swing.  Harris’ campaign shortcomings became obvious, but why take notice so late? She failed because her party had lost its historic focus on working class issues.  I am no wonk in American politics, but early in the campaign, I had warned my American friends that inflation and the loss of purchasing power should have been front and center.  I took my clues from the July elections in France.  Extremist parties came on top, thanks to their populist platforms.  They convinced voters that president Macron’s economic policies and his inability to curb inflation had disenfranchised them and made them poorer.  Macron and Harris were swept away by the same issue: the cost of living.

The comparison between France and the USA stops here.  If Trump drives his MAGA troop like a sect, the Democrat party is increasingly morphing into an elitist club, soon broke by dwindling membership.   My New Yorker friends can take solace in the fact that incumbent governments did miserably in 2024’s elections.

Let’s talk about the cost of living, since my last NYC visit six months ago, it has gone through the roof.  Going out in Manhattan has become a true luxury; the price of restaurant meals, shows, concerts and museums has gone up a lot.  Although cultural life has not fully recovered from its pre-Covid buoyance, it was more upbeat.  I took full advantage of it and paid full price.  MOMA still allows me to visit for free with my UN retiree ID, but the Metropolitan Museum of Art has tightened its rules: my expired NY State driving license is no longer accepted for the resident’s discounted rate. 

Although block buster exhibits are tempting, my Covid fueled agoraphobia makes me favor smaller shows.  At the Met, the art show of the season was the intimate Siena: The Rise of Painting, 1300-1350.  I was eager to discover the religious works before visiting Siena during Xmas.  The small gold paintings glow in the dim light of the exhibition rooms.  It is magical to be able to gaze at these gilded treasures without seeing the other visitors around.  In 1350, Siena was ravaged by the Black Death or bubonic plaque, killing an estimated 30-50% of its population including most of the featured artists.

Since MOMA is free for me, I leisurely see its exhibits one at a time.  Lillie P. Bliss and the Birth of the Modern attracted my curiosity.  Who is, or was Lillie Bliss? MOMA was founded (1929) by three rich ladies and Lillie (1864-1931), a visionary Modern Art collector, was the most generous of the three.  Her collection of several Cézannes, Seurats, Redons, Picassos, etc. formed the bedrock of MOMA’s.  She gifted her collection on the condition that the scrappy MOMA raised funds for its upkeep, and she allowed sales and purchases.  In 1941, MOMA sold two of her Cézannes plus a Toulouse-Lautrec to purchase Van Gogh’s Stary Nights.

When in Manhattan, I rent a pad near the Guggenheim Museum; its Fall exhibit was Harmony and dissonance: Orphism in Paris 1910-1930.  I loved orphism without knowing it! Orphism refers to the colorful and luminous cubism of the Delaunays, Robert and Sonia.  The name was coined after Orpheus by poet G. Apollinaire, who had a knack for names, he is also credited with coining the terms cubism and surrealism.

I gave the Metropolitan Opera a miss: only old productions in the offering.  Tosca was the 2017-18 production that I had seen with Sonya Yoncheva in the title role.  I did not feel like seeing a Viking singing the role of the passionate, jealous and free-spirited Roman diva.  Reviews were not positive anyway.  A week later in Rio, I saw (on screen) the Arena di Verona’s Tosca with the same Yoncheva.

If life is an opera, la forza del destino is unfolding in Mar-a-Lago, Florida.