I love a good Latin turn-of-phrase. Thinking about, and planning, this blog post, my first substantial one in several weeks, I thought about not only what I'd write but about what its theme would be.
You see, living in NYC during this pandemic, it feels like the city we love is so close and yet so far. It's there, right out our windows, the concrete and steel and parks and everything we love exists but ... not really. We're here, it's there, we live in it and we love it, but so many of the things we love to do and enjoy in NYC are either closed, cancelled, or, if they are open, extrememly burdensome, not to mention potentially dangerous, to enjoy.
So much of NYC right now feels in absentia -- its there but not here, its in our minds and memories and hopes and dreams but currently unavailable in our reality, our daily lives.
Scanning the media these last several weeks, these stories defined for me this peculiar sense of absence. What makes it peculiar is that some of these absences are most definately permament but others either aren't permament but ... they might be ... we don't know ... they exist in a kind of purgatory ... in absentia ... forever for or (at least) for now. But some of these things also give me hope that a better day, Annie's "Tomorrow", is only a day (or few) away.
Here goes, Mr NYC's peculiar feelings about COVID-19 in NYC, the feeling of being "in absentia":
- There's the great musician Johnny Mandel, a child of NYC, who wrote many great songs including "Suicide is Painless" from the classic movie MASH. He died last month at the age of 94.
- There's the memory of the legendary "Black and White Ball" that occurred on November 28, 1966 at the Plaza Hotel. This was the party of the century thrown by the great writer Truman Capote for Katherine Graham, the publisher of the Washington Post. It was also Capote's re-entry into New York society after he had spent years researching and writing his masterpiece In Cold Blood, living mostly in the mid-west. Everyone who was anyone went to this party, a list of legends. This oral history gives a full account of what was, in many ways, the last time high society was openly celebrated by the world. In captured a moment in time before the horrors of Vietnam, riots, Watergate, and so many other body blows would hit the American spirit and psyche -- the legacies of which we still grapple with today.
- Then there's the funky world of NYC theater. Who knows when it will ever live again? Live performances will be the last thing that can "reopen" for obvious reasons, so it may be a year or more before not only Broadway but theaters and shows and performance spaces of all stripes will be able to come back. That's why this other oral history, written in 1985 to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Off-Broadway, is both a joy and also sad a thing to read. It reminds you of another NYC, a NYC that lives and breathes and performs and explores creativity. That NYC is on hold for the moment but we can always remember and honor it -- and that it returns ASAP.
- And then we come to the present moment. Many New Yorkers have left the city, quarantining in the country. An estimated 400,000 plus people fled. Some have already returned, some hope to soon -- but others think they might never come back. Others did stay (like yours truly) because the idea of abandoning their city in its deepest moment of need felt wrong. But I shall not cast any stones. In a difficult situation like COVID-19, there's no right answer to any of this, no right thing to do, no perfect solution to a problem that persists and endures for the world. Should I stay or should I go? That's a question in a time and situation like this that only individuals can answer for themselves -- and we should all reserve our judgements of whatever decisions others have made.
- And yet ... whatever you're doing during this pandemic, wherever you are, it's probably involving a lot of TV, particularly streaming shows. The wife got me watching this ridiculous show on Netflix called The Politician about a young man who aspires to one day become president and plots out his climb. In the first season he ran and (sorta) won the student presidency of his high school in California. In the second season, he and his friends move to NYC and take aim at unseating a powerful New York State Senator (most of which involves this young man giving speeches next to bridges in freezing cold weather). The plot is absurd but the acting, the writing, and the production values are first-rate (it also has Gwenyth Paltrow). It's a total guilty pleasure. Also, it's a total NYC love-fest, with numerous scenes filmed in restaurants and places that we love -- the kind of places that we can't go to right now. If you've seen or plan to see the second season of this show, you can find more about the glorious places where they filmed it in NYC here.
- And yet, into the absence, into the void, comes some pure joy: a new show called Central Park on Apple TV. It's an animated musical show, pure fantasy, about a family that lives in Central Park and is trying to savev their home from a developer. The voice talent on this show is insane: Kirsten Bell, Daveed Diggs, Tony Shalhoub, Fred Armisen, even Ed Asner! And so many more! It's a wonderful new edition to the culture, an act of creation in a time of so much loss, that reminds us of why we eternally love NYC, even in the worst of times.
- Finally, there are the saviors. There are the front line workers healing the sick and keeping our city running at a time when it feels like it's frozen. They are saviors all. These saviors include the people at The Public Theater and WNYC radio who, for four nights, broadcast Shakespeare's Richard II in lieu of Shakespeare in the Park that was obviously cancelled. It's an amazing, beautiful experience hearing this great old play read by today's top talent. My family and I listened to it every night and loved it. You can listen to it here. Hopefully, in this time of destruction, Shakespeare on the radio becomes a new creation, a new light in the darkness, that lasts and shines on brightly.
NYC is in absentia for now ... but never forever, and never totally.
You see, living in NYC during this pandemic, it feels like the city we love is so close and yet so far. It's there, right out our windows, the concrete and steel and parks and everything we love exists but ... not really. We're here, it's there, we live in it and we love it, but so many of the things we love to do and enjoy in NYC are either closed, cancelled, or, if they are open, extrememly burdensome, not to mention potentially dangerous, to enjoy.
So much of NYC right now feels in absentia -- its there but not here, its in our minds and memories and hopes and dreams but currently unavailable in our reality, our daily lives.
Scanning the media these last several weeks, these stories defined for me this peculiar sense of absence. What makes it peculiar is that some of these absences are most definately permament but others either aren't permament but ... they might be ... we don't know ... they exist in a kind of purgatory ... in absentia ... forever for or (at least) for now. But some of these things also give me hope that a better day, Annie's "Tomorrow", is only a day (or few) away.
Here goes, Mr NYC's peculiar feelings about COVID-19 in NYC, the feeling of being "in absentia":
- There's the great musician Johnny Mandel, a child of NYC, who wrote many great songs including "Suicide is Painless" from the classic movie MASH. He died last month at the age of 94.
- There's the memory of the legendary "Black and White Ball" that occurred on November 28, 1966 at the Plaza Hotel. This was the party of the century thrown by the great writer Truman Capote for Katherine Graham, the publisher of the Washington Post. It was also Capote's re-entry into New York society after he had spent years researching and writing his masterpiece In Cold Blood, living mostly in the mid-west. Everyone who was anyone went to this party, a list of legends. This oral history gives a full account of what was, in many ways, the last time high society was openly celebrated by the world. In captured a moment in time before the horrors of Vietnam, riots, Watergate, and so many other body blows would hit the American spirit and psyche -- the legacies of which we still grapple with today.
- Then there's the funky world of NYC theater. Who knows when it will ever live again? Live performances will be the last thing that can "reopen" for obvious reasons, so it may be a year or more before not only Broadway but theaters and shows and performance spaces of all stripes will be able to come back. That's why this other oral history, written in 1985 to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Off-Broadway, is both a joy and also sad a thing to read. It reminds you of another NYC, a NYC that lives and breathes and performs and explores creativity. That NYC is on hold for the moment but we can always remember and honor it -- and that it returns ASAP.
- And then we come to the present moment. Many New Yorkers have left the city, quarantining in the country. An estimated 400,000 plus people fled. Some have already returned, some hope to soon -- but others think they might never come back. Others did stay (like yours truly) because the idea of abandoning their city in its deepest moment of need felt wrong. But I shall not cast any stones. In a difficult situation like COVID-19, there's no right answer to any of this, no right thing to do, no perfect solution to a problem that persists and endures for the world. Should I stay or should I go? That's a question in a time and situation like this that only individuals can answer for themselves -- and we should all reserve our judgements of whatever decisions others have made.
- And yet ... whatever you're doing during this pandemic, wherever you are, it's probably involving a lot of TV, particularly streaming shows. The wife got me watching this ridiculous show on Netflix called The Politician about a young man who aspires to one day become president and plots out his climb. In the first season he ran and (sorta) won the student presidency of his high school in California. In the second season, he and his friends move to NYC and take aim at unseating a powerful New York State Senator (most of which involves this young man giving speeches next to bridges in freezing cold weather). The plot is absurd but the acting, the writing, and the production values are first-rate (it also has Gwenyth Paltrow). It's a total guilty pleasure. Also, it's a total NYC love-fest, with numerous scenes filmed in restaurants and places that we love -- the kind of places that we can't go to right now. If you've seen or plan to see the second season of this show, you can find more about the glorious places where they filmed it in NYC here.
- And yet, into the absence, into the void, comes some pure joy: a new show called Central Park on Apple TV. It's an animated musical show, pure fantasy, about a family that lives in Central Park and is trying to savev their home from a developer. The voice talent on this show is insane: Kirsten Bell, Daveed Diggs, Tony Shalhoub, Fred Armisen, even Ed Asner! And so many more! It's a wonderful new edition to the culture, an act of creation in a time of so much loss, that reminds us of why we eternally love NYC, even in the worst of times.
- Finally, there are the saviors. There are the front line workers healing the sick and keeping our city running at a time when it feels like it's frozen. They are saviors all. These saviors include the people at The Public Theater and WNYC radio who, for four nights, broadcast Shakespeare's Richard II in lieu of Shakespeare in the Park that was obviously cancelled. It's an amazing, beautiful experience hearing this great old play read by today's top talent. My family and I listened to it every night and loved it. You can listen to it here. Hopefully, in this time of destruction, Shakespeare on the radio becomes a new creation, a new light in the darkness, that lasts and shines on brightly.
NYC is in absentia for now ... but never forever, and never totally.
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