Still living on the edge on novelty, but a certain routine is forming. It’s not a bad thing…and at least my plants are getting watered again. The adventures continue however and show no sign of slowing down.
Early afternoon I visited the Brooklyn Museum. Historically (and despite last week’s effusive praise) I’ve had a mixed approach to museums. At some conceptual level I appreciate any institution dedicated to collecting, collating, preserving, and exploring knowledge, but art museums are a particular challenge – I far prefer art to be within the context of a broader environment. A room with nothing but artwork is too forceful and contrived an experience to really impart much more than raw aesthetics. Far better that Portraits are with their histories, pottery with the culture using them, and statues beside their temples. Context, especially with non-western art, is challenging enough for me to grasp without the additional barrier of curated cleanliness in the way. Sometimes it’s better to let history be a little cluttered…
That said, the museum is genuinely expansive. The first floor has Ming bases and an impressive collection of African art. The third floor (second closed) houses the Egyptian art predominantly which is truly astounding. The sheer amount of items (just in this one collection) and the incredible details behind them can only give the barest approximation of how large and long-lasting the Egyptian civilization lasted. The sort of culture that can build pyramids and preserve language and give such a visceral look into their experience over such a long distance of time is perhaps the most awe-inspiring and humbling part of the museum experience.
The third floor has a scattering of things including paintings by Thomas Cole & Frederic Church…names from my upstate life. Also a tree growing out of a piano.
Marilyn Minter holds the fourth floor place of honor. Despite wandering the halls and reading the info plaques, I’m not sure I’m in any place to offer the slightest comment or criticism. The work is sexual…at some level…but the sensation is one of violence. It’s not all gross but most is uncomfortable. That is presumably by design but it doesn’t feel tremendously truthful either. This is manufactured gross not captured or incidental gross. And even that isn’t universal. Her early photos are quite striking and her more recently images are nearly humorous, but the middle period 1980s-90s is…particular, for sure.
Regardless of my abstracted take on museums or these specific exhibits, it was a wonderful way to pass a saturday. And enhanced greatly by the company beside me. I feel bad summarizing a 560,000 square foot space so cavalierly, but like the museum itself, I impart merely the barest glimpse…
Moving onto the food portion of this weekend, I passed dinner at the crowded (popular) Avli Restaurant. I was eager for Greek and the Chicken Souvlaki was everything I wanted it to be and the tzatziki was exceptional. I had been told Bayside had exceptional Greek. I appear to have found it.
Sunday was mostly an errand day – detritus moving tasks like switching of over a few mailing addresses and grocery shopping.
Later for brunch I ate at Royal Queen, (Music warning on that link) a dim sum place up in Flushing. I’ll let that website describe the experience… Truly though it was fantastic even if I barely knew what half of everything was. The dumplings are by far the best.
The weekend’s eating continued; I cooked a Clafoutis to bring to dinner at a friends. For those not up on their regional french cuisine, it’s a dessert rather like a thick fruit pancake. Perhaps similar to flan in a way but not quite as custardy. Sadly I wasn’t able to find the customary black cherries so I used grapes, but the effect was the same. I suspect a professional would have used more sugar than I did…and a larger thinner pan…but my variation was gently sweet and let the fruit come through. A success, je pense!
The earlier friday, I passed an enjoyable end of week happy hour at Plattdeutsche Park. I’m not exactly sure why they had an Oktoberfest on tap, but seemed a charming enough place to meet my new colleagues and ample parking. The Bon Jovi/Journey tribute band Bon Journey supplied the music…I really am on Long Island.
And with that I’m grumpy again…adieu.