vip in the city

Mirror, Mirror

We were already in the neighborhood, and since SYB had seemed sad about missing out on the Afghani feast a week and a half ago, we decided to take a break from all the architecture tours to enjoy a leisurely tea at Bamiyan.

We ordered what were, in my opinion, the “greatest hits” of that night’s dinner: a steaming, fragrant pot of Shir-Chay (the traditional Afghan tea brewed with milk, sugar, cardamom and rose petals) and two varieties of hot, crispy turnovers: the Kadu (pumpkin) and the Boulanee (scallions), accompanied by the delicious tangy yogurt mint sauce. Perfect.

From the restaurant, we caught a bus uptown, along the route from which we would part: he, home to prepare the food for tonight’s dinner party; me, home… to relax before heading to tonight’s dinner party.

On the M5, we were struck by a sudden inspiration. One of the security guards at the Chrysler Building earlier that afternoon had highly recommended we try to check out the rooftop gardens at Rockefeller Center — one of the rare opportunities to wander the meticulously landscaped oasis atop the British Empire Building, normally closed to the public. The space features a topiary garden, a reflecting pool and dramatic views of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. At the time, we didn’t have any plans to be in that neighborhood, but as our bus crawled its way up Sixth Avenue towards 50th Street, we thought: Why not?

Well, for one: the site was scheduled to close at 4:00PM, and a quick glance at SYB’s watch informed us that it was at that moment, in fact, 4:00PM. We exited the bus, and raced east towards Fifth Avenue along tourist-clogged 50th Street. Or rather: attempted to race, as best we could without resorting to full body-checking of complete strangers. (“Welcome to New York. Now… move!”) By the time we made it to 620 Fifth Avenue, it was 4:10PM. Would the lobby guard let us upstairs, just for a peek? Please?

What do you think? (There’s always next year.)

Since we were already in the plaza, it gave us the chance to check out Sky Mirror, the latest public art installation by internationally renowned British artist Anish Kapoor. The exhibition, unveiled in Rockefeller Center on September 19, was organized by the New York-based nonprofit Public Art Fund and hosted by Tishman Speyer.

The 23-ton, 35-foot-diameter curved seamless mirror was made (in Finland) of highly polished stainless steel; it is a larger version of the one commissioned by the Nottingham Playhouse in 2001. The original cost £900,000 and was to date the most expensive piece of civic art funded by the United Kingdom’s National Lottery. New York’s Sky Mirror stands nearly three stories tall at the Fifth Avenue entrance to the Channel Gardens at Rockefeller Center. The concave side of this circular stainless steel sculpture is angled upward, facing 30 Rockefeller Plaza, reflecting an upside-down image of the skyscraper. The convex side, facing Fifth Avenue, reflects the mostly tourist crowds gathered, posing, snapping photographs or just staring, entranced by the passing streetscape.

Sky Mirror is on view at Rockefeller Center through October 27, 2006.

Dinner party went well: I met CS just outside my apartment, so she and I could travel into Queens together. AC, JL and of course, our hosts HYB and SYB, were also assembled, and the six of us shared deeply buttery filet mignons, cheesy baked squash gratin and chunky mashed potatoes with leeks. All organic vegetables, fresh from our farmer. AC, CS and I bonded over dark chocolate-dipped strawberries. The girl talk may have proved too much for JL, who escaped, claiming calculus homework, and HYB, who retired to his room, shortly after the meal.

Judy & Bea

Tonight’s class went somewhat better than the first. And I was saved by the bell when class ended before the professor could call me up in front of the class to recite my Russian compositions.

After class, SN invited me along to meet up with his co-workers for the taping of a cabaret show in which his boss JS would be performing at Helen’s in Chelsea.

As it turned out, JS would be performing “Bea,” as in “Bea Arthur,” in the “Judy & Bea: Two Dorothy’s reunited“ cabaret show. “Judy,” as in “Judy Garland,” was portrayed by his real-life partner, PM. The two were billed as a duo of “gender illusionists,” i.e, drag queens. JS was reprising his role from 2003’s cease-and-desist-letter-shortened run of “The Golden Girls: LIVE!“; PM first impersonated Garland in his autobiographical play “Judy and Me.”

Emceeing this evening for the live taping was Joe Franklin. When I mentioned this to DM later in the week, she balked, “He’s still alive?!” And indeed: Franklin has been listed in the Guinness Book of Records as television’s ”Most durable talk show host,” appearing on his eponymous talk show for five decades, and interviewing, by some accounts, over 300,000 guests (which may or may not include Krusty the Clown on the “Bart’s Dog Gets an F” episode of The Simpsons.)

Also in attendance: Leon Hall, whom I remember from E!’s Fashion Emergency, and Jim Colucci, author of The Q Guide to The Golden Girls. Random! Though perhaps, not so.

The show was great fun, and the transformations quite remarkable. PM very ably performed many of the Garland standbys, including “Zing! Went The Strings Of My Heart,” “The Trolley Song,” “You Made Me Love You,” “Chicago” and “Swanee” (which had the blatantly adulterous couple at our table chiming in.) And of course: “Over the Rainbow.”

JS, who holds a doctorate in Computer-mediated Learning and is the grand-nephew and godson of the actor/television writer Richard Waring, did a scarily spot-on Dorothy Zbornak — down to the gravelly speak-singing and sarcastic deadpan zingers. Naturally he closed out his segment with The Golden Girls theme song, “Thank You for Being a Friend.”

I’ve often wondered about the origin of the phrase “Friend of Dorothy” to describe gay men. I had assumed that it was a reference to gay icon Judy Garland’s “Dorothy Gale” character from The Wizard of Oz, but others point the origin to Dorothy Parker, American critic, poet and writer, and a founding member of the Algonquin Round Table. Parker was — and continues to be — very popular in gay circles, and appreciated for her caustic and incisive — dare we say: bitchy ? — style.

From the program (no photos permitted during the performance): PM (Dorothy) and JS (Bea) — before and after:

Men seldom make passes
At girls who wear glasses.

— Dorothy Parker (1893-1967), “News Item“

La Gioconda — Act I

I did not make it into the office today.

I did, however, make it to the opera for the first performance in my season’s series. The Metropolitan Opera’s 2006-2007 season kicked off the night before with a red-carpet gala performance of Madama Butterfly broadcast on giant video screens in both Lincoln Center Plaza and on the Panasonic jumbo screen at 1 Times Square. Broadway between 42nd and 45th Streets was closed to traffic to make space for 650 cushioned seats — no tickets necessary; alternatively, for $50,000, patrons could have purchased an eight-seat opera box and attended the post-performance dinner.

This night (sans Mikhail Baryshnikov, Sean Connery, Goldie Hawn, Anjelica Huston, David Bowie, Meg Ryan, Al Roker, Susan Sarandon, Tim Robbins, James Gandolfini and Jude Law): Amilcare Ponchielli’s La Gioconda.

La Gioconda translates to The Ballad Singer, though the English title is almost never used. It is a lengthy work (with an estimated performance length of four hours) with four acts by Ponchielli, and a libretto by Arrigo Boito, after Victor Hugo’s play, Angelo, Tyrant of Padua. Each act of the opera has a separate title: Act I, “The Lion’s Mouth“; Act II, “The Rosary“; Act III, “The House of Gold,”; Act IV, “The Orfano Canal.”

Even those not familiar with La Gioconda  recognize its “Dance of the Hours,” which is inextricably associated in the cultural consciousness with the trippily lumbering, twirling hippos of Disney’s Fantasia (and Allan Sherman’s “Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh”).

From the Met’s website description of La Gioconda:

Historical spectacle and extreme contrast of musical moods highlight the plights of five love-crazed characters in Ponchielli’s grandest of grand operas. Violeta Urmana, Olga Borodina, and Marcello Giordani head the vocal forces while renowned choreographer Christopher Wheeldon creates the dances (including the irrepressible “Dance of the Hours,” made famous in Walt Disney’s Fantasia). The opera also features the all-time best final line in opera (“and by the way, I killed your mother!”).

This night, I didn’t make it to that finale either.