vip in the city, page 66

Attended a lunchtime concert by The Julliard School’s Kang & Soto Duo: Judy Kang (Violin) and Josu de Solaun Soto (Piano). The performance took place in the glass atrium of 180 Maiden, formerly known as the Continental Center, just south of South Street Seaport. It was built for the Continental Insurance Company by The Rockefeller Group in 1983 at a cost of $115 million. In August 2004, the building was sold to The Moinian Group for $355 million.

A blurry shot of the performance in progess (after which I asked to put the camera away.)

I’d taken a different view of this building from the anniversary cruise last month, and it’s clear how the glass tower rises above its surroundings (here, the leftmost building, behind Pier 17):

The tower was enabled by the transfer of unused air rights from the low-rises in the South Street Seaport historic district. Air rights allow developers to build taller towers than the zoning ordinarily allows by buying the space over low-scale buildings and transferring it (on paper, if not in reality) to spaces over adjacent buildings. From wikipedia, an explanation of how Transfer of Development Rights (TDR) works:

EXAMPLE: A historic building is surrounded by skyscrapers. The building is only three stories high, but each building in the area has the right to thirty-five stories of airspace. The community doesn’t want the historic building to be destroyed. The owners of the historic building could make a great deal of money by selling their building and allowing a thirty-five story office building to be built in its place. But if they sell their air rights to someone developing an office building nearby, they can make almost as much money, if not more, without demolishing the historic building. And the person who purchases their air rights can now build a sixty-seven story office building.

TDR makes it possible for there to be a free exchange (buying and selling) of development rights without having to sell land. Critics of this model argue that the plan rarely generates much money for historic low-rise properties, and is more often used as a real estate scheme to undermine zoning protections.

Group dinner at Pam Real Thai — second time there this week. JS, who spent a year in Thailand after college, did the ordering, which worked out well for everyone; we shared an abundance of tasty dishes, including the tangy sliced squid salad and the deep-fried whole snapper with lime dressing and shreds of fresh mango. So good! He and I agreed on this point: Pam’s has the best Thai food in Manhattan. The original Wondee Siam is a close second — though some on the Chowhound boards would have you believe the reverse. I really have to make it out to Sripraphai in Woodside, Queens one of these days…

Afterwards, AC, CS, CC and I walked over to the Time Out New York Lounge which opened two weeks ago in Worldwide Plaza. Sort of an odd expansion of the “Time Out” brand (Jossip likened it to Jimmy Buffett bars or Teen Vogue television) but at least the lounge was low key enough to allow for audible conversation. The subterranean space that was once home to the Cineplex Odeon $2.00 (then $2.50, and just before closing: $3.00) second-run movie theater complex now houses New World Stages and its five Off-Broadway theaters.

From the lounge, we could hear the thumping beats from a television industry fête in full swing around the corner in the lower-lower level (former movie theater) space. It was tempting to crash the party — and in fact, we had some half-hearted discussions about making the attempt — but ultimately decided against infiltrating. Just as well: the party was breaking up just as we were leaving around midnight anyway.

I remember.

I attended the Christie’s preview reception for their upcoming auction: “First Open: Post-War and Contemporary Art” — not “40 years of Star Trek: The Collection” (which takes place early next month) as the wise guys among you had surmised.

But for all you fanboys:

40 Years of Star Trek: The Collection
September 25 – October 3
Rockefeller Center Concourse

Christie’s presents 40 Years of Star Trek: The Collection at auction October 5th-7th. The sale will offer an extraordinary array of property from one of the most groundbreaking and iconic film and television series in history. Items include costumes, props, weapons, artwork, rare furniture, accessories and more, encompassing Star Trek’s prolific 40 year history. Before going to auction, selected items will be on display in the Rockefeller Center Concourse from September 25th-October 3rd.

Edited to add: Admission to the viewing will be via purchase of a $90(!) or $500(!!) auction catalogue or by $25 “Star Pass” only.

M(LF), KP and I headed inside to the galleries together, and wandered among the artwork for auction, plastic wineglasses of chardonnay in hand. Pieces by Jean-Michel Basquiat, Keith Haring, Andy Warhol, Alexander Calder, David Hockney, Willem de Kooning… and a lot of others I didn’t recognize. As usual, some of the stuff was downright bizarre: like Tony Feher’s installation of plastic bottles, water, food dye, wire and rope (estimated at $20,000-30,000.)

Here, Rikrit Tiravanija’s silkscreened tent, titled Atlas (a seeming bargain at $5,000-7,000 – and you can sleep in it.) On the left wall, in peach, Imi Knoebel’s Siebeneck (Seven Corners) — enamel on shaped panel, valued at $20,000-$30,000.

Afterwards, there was a private tour and a concert in the “Artist Den” upstairs. Before the main act, we screened taped performances from similar past events: Regina Spektor at The Angel Orensanz Foundation (one of the prettiest event spaces in New York) and Martha Wainwright on the stage we were watching. Finally: Shawn Colvin emerged, looking pretty darned good for her 50 years.

Right before the show, KP reminded me that Colvin’s biggest commercial success was for her single “Sunny Came Home.” All week I had somehow gotten it into my head that she was the artist behind “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?” Turns out that’s Paula Cole – so uh, whoops. Both songs were nominated for Record of the Year and Song of the Year at the 1998 Grammys — incidentally, Colvin won in both categories –- so the confusion is at least a little bit understandable. Paula Cole took Best New Artist that year.

Colvin had a charming, self-deprecating stage presence –- at one point, attempting and quickly abandoning a cover of The Carpenters “I Won’t Last A Day Without You.” She closed out her show with “I Don’t Know Why,” which KP was brave enough to shout out when Colvin asked for requests. Good thing I didn’t ask for “the Cowboy song.”

We arrived at 43rd and Broadway just as the Broadway on Broadway concert was getting underway. No dice: nobody — except for the pair of uniformed Navy sailors — were getting through. We were sent over to Eighth Avenue, and began the slow march uptown: West 43rd, 44th, 45th, 46th.. at every intersection, we met with police officers redirecting people farther and farther away from the crowds that were rapidly filling Broadway. Finally at 47th, we were able to make our way over.

From our spots behind the wooden police barricades, we could hear the concert sounds being piped out through the massive speakers, but could not see the stage, or determine where it was, really. We heard a song each from The Producers and from Les Miz, (which apparently is being revived for a limited six-month engagement at the Broadhurst Theatre. Already?) and “Seasons of Love” from Rent, featuring infamous American Idol contestant Frenchie Davis (who got lots of love from the crowd.) Also, “It Sucks to Be Me,” from the incomparable Avenue Q, which SYB and I attended together back in 2004.

KATE MONSTER
… I’m kinda pretty
And pretty damn smart.

BRIAN
You are.

KATE MONSTER
Thanks!
I like romantic things
Like music and art.
And as you know
I have a gigantic heart
So why don’t I have…
A boyfriend?
F@&%!
It sucks to be me!

Naturally, that last interjection was edited out for the Times Square audience.

It seemed a bit pointless to stay for the entire concert — though I would have liked to hear Martin Short do his bit — so we left just as the selection from upcoming Grey Gardens was starting. Now where brunch?

The Ninth Avenue restaurant scene has exploded these past few years, and brunch is generally far less of an ordeal than farther uptown in my neighborhood. After dismissing some other options (Pam Real Thai, Island Burgers & Shakes) as not “brunchy” enough, we eventually found our way to Eatery. Unfortunately, it also happened to be the one place on that stretch of Avenue with a line out the door. Uh, no thanks.

We did the next best thing by heading over to Eatery’s lesser known sibling (and fellow WC-designed space) Whym. Good solid brunch of corned beef and sweet-potato hash with eggs – and I think we were the youngest people in the restaurant, excepting the bartender, which I find rarely happens in the city these days… outside the Philharmonic, that is.

Errands at Whole Foods (ulitmately deciding against loitering among the prepared foods), and then we stumbled upon a fair in progress at Lincoln Center. When I asked SYB what was being sold at the stands there, I thought he replied “Crap” when he’d actually said: “Crafts.”

Don’t be sad if you missed it: they’ll be around next weekend, too. (And it’s not all crap.)

On the way into the office to learn of my fate, I passed the Seventh Avenue Street Fair in progress. Ah, the telltale wafts of smoke and all-too-familiar smells…

Last month, I came upon a news story that New York City street fairs all seem similar because they are similar, based on a report (.pdf) by the Center for an Urban Future. Their study found that complex politics result in the same vendors appearing at most of the fairs. Just three companies organize over two-thirds of the fairs, and 46 percent of all the food permits are distributed among the 20 largest vendors. Based on personal observation, I wonder: 20 — that many, really?  Sausage and peppers, gyros, funnel cakes, $1 Thai, corndogs, chicken pita, turkey legs, crepes, roasted corn on the cob, Mozzarepas  (those cornmeal-pancake/mozzerella sandwiches I’ve never seen outside  a street fair), fresh cut fruit/smoothies, kettle corn and fresh squeezed lemonade – what else is there?  Though truth be told, I do find it difficult to pass up those last two sometimes.

On rare occasions – usually only when the fair is linked to some specific theme – you may get offerings like eclairs and vichyssoise.

Though I am entranced by the idea that you can pick up a viking-sized drumstick (along with your overstock brassieres, silver jewelry and tube socks), just minutes before catching a show at adjacent Carnegie Hall.

I had planned to attend the opening reception for Scott Alger’s: (un)Fashion at the PhotoGraphic Gallery on Front Street, but by the time I made it over to the Seaport after work, I couldn’t bring myself to head back indoors. As Autumn approaches, there’s just a little less sunlight to enjoy after work each day.

Also, the NY Brewfest was taking place at Pier 16 & 17. The festival is a celebration to recognize the Empire State Brewery Trail. On hand to showcase samplings of their craft were representatives from the 58 breweries, microbreweries and brew pubs around the state.

I didn’t have a Brewfest ticket – and really wasn’t in the mood for so much brew – but I did stick around to catch the performance on the Seaport stage by Bernie Clarke and the Rhythm Sharks.

I strolled uptown along the East River and noted the dramatic changes taking place on this once forlorn and desolate stretch. In early 2003, New York City laid the groundwork for an ambitious new effort to redesign the East River waterfront from Battery Park to East River Park – complementing the West Side piers redevelopment project. Check out the ambitious plans for the East River Waterfront Esplanade, which were unveiled last May.

Passed the Old, Peck, Catherine and Market Slips, remnants of the area’s ship haven history. But what to call these cobblestoned streets that run under and alongside the FDR Drive, North of the Seaport, East of TriBeCa? The runner-up in Curbed’s 2005 “‘Hoodwinked contest” (in which participants were invited to submit neighborhood names of their own creation) suggested “The Nightie Drawer.” After all the “slips” – get it?

Though I have to admit that the contest winner, RAMBO (Right After the Manhattan Bridge Overpass), is pretty brilliant:

Name: RAMBO
Submitted By: Heath Binder & Adam Wills
Boundaries: Right After the Manhattan Bridge Overpass. The neighborhood stretching between Tillary Street and York Steet, north of the Manhattan Bridge
Description: Ever been to DUMBO? Nice, isn’t it, with all of the fancy restaurants, the waterfront views, the arts scene. If you cross north over the Manhattan Bridge, however, you’re still in the same zip code (11201), and people (realtors) still refer to the neighborhood as DUMBO, but it’s, well, a little different from the high-priced condo haven. For starters, Fresh Direct won’t deliver to “our part” of the zip code. Two, our closest 24-hour store is the McDonalds on Tillary Street. Three, we’ve got the projects. The neighborhood is nice and green and hell, my rent is great compared to what I’d be paying for space on the South side of the bridge, considering that I’m literally a three-minute walk from it, but I think it deserves a moniker which appropriately reflects its grittiness. We are still industrial, you know.

Thanks to SYB’s ticket-seeking tenacity last month, we snagged a pair of prime seats to the opening night of New York City Opera’s Opera-for-All Festival.

Second Row Center! Again!

I had attended 2005’s inaugural festival with B, so I knew that we were in store for a series of stellar performances. This year’s lineup did not disappoint – sort of a “Greatest Hits” of the upcoming opera season. Each piece opened with an introduction by NYC Opera Music Director/guest conductor, George Manahan, who provided both context and history for the novice-heavy audience. There were the usual crowd pleasers: the drinking song from La traviata; a quintet from Carmen; and the big finale: “Quando m’en vo” — Musetta’s waltz from La bohème. In between, there were several wonderful performances that had the crowd alternately cheering and weeping in appreciation, including “Una furtive lagrima” from Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore – one of the best loved and most touching Bel Canto arias. As Manahan noted: “It’s great to be a tenor!”

There was a surprise insertion of the “The William Tell Overture,” (an example of Rossini‘s more serious, later work) which sent a rippling murmur of recognition through the audience after the opening bars, and a hammy ensemble performance of “When the foreman bares his steel” from Gilbert & Sullivan’s The Pirates of Penzance.

Although I just recently signed up for a series subscription at The Met (which lowered ticket prices this year in an attempt to draw new audiences), I am also interested in NYC Opera’s multimedia production of Die tote Stadt, Erich Wolfgang Korngold‘s operatic masterpiece. Korngold is the composer often credited with creating the modern Hollywood film score, for which he won two Academy Awards in the 1930s.

We made our way to the New York State Theater mezzanine after the concert, following the crush of the capacity crowd and the sound of blaring rock guitars and drums. Hey, it’s the East Village Opera Company (EVOC)!

Earlier in the day, I sent an email to LP, rightly figuring that she would be at tonight’s performance to support her boyfriend, EVOC’s lead singer. She responded right away, and we agreed to look out for one another at the afterparty. Not quite so easy: the floor was filled with throngs of revelers, rocking out in full appreciation of the high-energy, updated opera classics (and the free food and wine.)

LP spotted me first, and we were able to catch up on our summers and share some office scuttlebutt, though I did feel a tad rude shouting over her boyfriend’s super-amped vocals. Turns out she was in Hong Kong a couple of months after I was, accompanying the band towards the end of their Asia tour. This Fall, the EVOC has bookings throughout the country, in Canada and in Mexico. And in 2007: South America! Forget tenors: it’s great to be a rock star!

SYB deduced that LP had played the lead in the performance of Broadway’s Miss Saigon he attended in 2000 — TR had left the cast by then. Small world! After EVOC’s set, LP brought us up past the gaggle of groupies to congratulate TR on his performance. He graciously agreed to sign EVOC’s eponymous CD that SYB purchased that night.

At one point, wandering around the party, I overheard some snarky comments from beneath the mezzanine tiers. I turned to locate the source, which turned out to be a gathering of divos from this evening’s concert. Also tonight’s Musetta — whose real name is Elizabeth Caballero. Not knowing that at the time, I greeted her, “Hey, Musetta!”, and added “You were great up there!” She smiled, “Thanks,” and we made small talk for about a minute before I left her to continue mouthing along to the lyrics of the EVOC’s performance. Tough crowd.

SN and I met up after work so we could attend together NYU’s Open House/information session being held at the nearby Woolworth Building. The lobby is one of the most beautiful interior spaces in New York City. Sadly, like so many other public spaces, it too was closed off for security reasons after September 11. We were required to come into the building through the Barclay Street entrance, completely bypassing the grand, high arches I remember from those pre-2001 days.

SYB was already there, considering the offerings at the School of Continuing and Professional Studies. After a quick tour among the tables, I spied IG, the superstar of our Russian I class, by the refreshments table. After some quick catching up, I left her with SN to discuss course registration strategy. I hope to see them both again in two weeks, when Russian II starts up for the Fall. NYU requires a minimum enrollment of six people to hold the class; after tonight, we’re already halfway there. Fingers crossed…

SYB was leaving the event also, so I invited him to tag along to the book party for Jennifer Rubell’s Real Life Entertaining. (SYB is all about the real life entertaining, after all.) We took the subway uptown to The Conran Shop, in Bridgemarket, tucked in the shadow of the Queensboro Bridge. This design-conscious home furnishings store opened in 1999, but I’d never had an occasion to make the special trip out there until now.

According to last week’s New York Times profile about The Conran Shop, the foot-traffic unfriendly location results in the cavernous, bi-level glass and steel space remaining empty most of the time. Technically, the store may have been open for shopping, but almost everyone there tonight seemed to be there for the party.

Jennifer Rubell is the niece of nightlife kingpin Steve Rubell, who co-founded the legendary Studio 54. Professional entertaining is her legacy: her family runs three Miami-area hotels (The Beach House, The Greenview and The Albion) and The Rubell Family Collection, a museum housing the world’s largest private family collection of contemporary art.

By the time we made our way past the clipboarded name-checkers, the cooking demonstration had already started downstairs. Rubell seemed to be about five minutes into the preparation of her quick and easy “Summer Tuna Spectacular,” featuring seared tuna with diced olives, tomatoes and capers. She talked the audience through the demonstration, offering creative ideas and helpful tips. (“Always cut meat against the grain for maximum tenderness!”) Though she probably caters to a similar demographic, I found Rubell far, far less grating than Rachael Ray.

Fair warning: any comments which include the terms “E.V.O.O.” and/or “Yum-o” will be deleted — no exceptions. Violators will be scorned.

One of the party sponsors was Rose’s Cocktail Infusions: purveyors of multi-colored fruit-flavored drink mixers. After Rubell’s segment, a bartender came up front to demonstrate the recipes a couple of prettily-hued specialty drinks featuring Rose’s mixer, both of which were also being served up at the bar stations around the floor.

Watermelon, Cranberry, Mango, Apple, and Blue Raspberry. I’m sure I do not understand the reasoning behind this quiz, but you can take it anyway to find out which Rose’s Cocktail Infusion suits your personal style. I’m a “Watermelon Trendsetter!”

After the two demos, there was plenty of time to wander among the cool Conran stock as the trays of hors d’oeuvres circulated. I actually found quite a few items I liked… if I had at least thrice the space and ten times the money I do now.

Dinner at English pub Baker Street, and then we crossed town to meet CS at our long-neglected local watering hole. Things there got pretty interesting, despite the absence of our friend, Bartender Paul (who is only on duty Mondays, Tuesdays and Saturdays.)

At one point in the evening I approached the bar to request a glass of water, and two men (both named Rob) sitting nearby began to strike up a conversation with me. One seemed vaguely familiar-looking, and as he and I continued to chat, a few details began to emerge from the haze of my memory. Yes, Riverside Drive, Morgan Stanley, Canadian…. Finally, after a pause, Rob commented, “You know… uh, we’ve met before.”

“Oh? Hmm, I thought so…”

“Yes. The last time, you were here with your lesbian friend.”

Ah. I should note here that “the last time” was well over a year and a half ago, and that although this was the first occasion she has been referred to me as such, I immediately recognized that the woman Rob was talking about was M. Dear M – from here on, known as my lesbian friend, haha! M(LF) and I were at Peter’s that late night so long ago, no doubt post-morteming our respective love life disasters.

Needless to say, she must have made quite the impression.

It was back to business as usual on Tuesday morning for J & J, but I played hooky for one more day. J chauffeured J and me from Cambridge into the Financial District, during which I got to observe a pretty amusing debate between them on the best strategy for navigating Boston’s infamous traffic-clogged streets. We pulled up in front of J’s building with a few minutes to spare. After dropping off my bags at her office, I set out to tour the area on foot, before three of us were to reconvene for lunch.

The shops were just beginning to open at the markets, and I had most of the area to myself, which really almost never happens in New York City, regardless of the hour. Here, Faneuil Hall with its distinctive gold grasshopper weathervane. The two-story Hall was built in 1740, but rebuilt in 1762 after a catastrophic fire destroyed most of the original structure. Since then it has served as a central location for Boston commerce and meetings, including organized protests against the British prior to the American Revolution, for which the Hall became known as America’s “Cradle of Liberty.” For almost a century, it also served as the chief food supply for Boston, on what was then the edge of Boston Harbor. The water was eventually filled in, and the Quincy Market building was constructed atop its place in 1826, creating much-needed additional commerce space in then rapidly expanding Boston.

Today, the area which comprises Faneuil Hall, Quincy Market, North Market and South Market is known as Faneuil Hall Marketplace and attracts over 12 million visitors each year. And this summer, 13 of the 120 life-size cows on parade in Boston:

The Market is lined with food stalls, including Boston’s only Beard Papa’s Fresh ‘n Natural Cream Puffs shop. And coming soon: Dale and Thomas Popcorn (ne Popcorn, Indiana), purveyors of my favorite gourmet kettle corn.

Incidentally: the “Quincy” of Quincy Market is Boston mayor and Harvard University president Josiah Quincy III, a descendant of Col. John Quincy, who pronounced his name “quin-zee”, NOT “quin-see.” This same pronunciation applies to the town of Quincy, Massachusetts, and to the sixth president of the United States, John Quincy Adams.

Beneath “Quin-zee” Market’s copper-domed seating area:

I followed the Freedom Trail up to the North End, past the New England Holocaust Memorial, which was dedicated in October 1995. According to the website, the Memorial features six luminous glass towers, each 54 feet high, set on a black granite path, evocative of the six main Nazi death camps, the six million Jews who died, or a menorah of memorial candles. Smoke rises from charred embers at the bottom of each chamber.

Across the street, the Union Oyster House, the oldest restaurant in Boston and the oldest restaurant in continuous service in the United States.

In the North End, I stopped in to tour the four public rooms of the Paul Revere House at 19 North Square, from which he set out on his Longfellow-immortalized Midnight Ride “on the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five”

The three-story house was already about a century old by the time its most famous resident moved in. It is the only surviving example of 17th century architecture in Boston, and almost all original. Some interesting facts about Revere: he was married twice during his 83 years: first to a woman who passed away shortly after their eighth(!) child was born – I’m conjecturing from exhaustion. Five(!!) months later, he remarried to a woman who bore him another eight(!!!) children. According to my tourguide, though, just 11 of his 16 children survived past infancy, so at any given time, “only” between five and nine children were living under that one roof.

Coffee and sfogliatelle from Mike’s Pastry Shop – at J’s recommendation. (Yum — thanks!)

More cows in Paul Revere Mall:

The Long Wharf in Boston Harbor, once the focal point of Boston’s booming shipping industry.

Our meeting place for lunch: the Flour and Grain Exchange Building (1892) on Milk Street. The impressive, granite building served as the meeting hall for the Boston Chamber of Commerce during its first ten years. Its distinctive conical roof, rounded front masonry and tiered arches made it an easily identifiable landmark for me in the winding streets of Boston’s financial district.

After a quick lunch, J & J accompanied me and my too-heavy bags to South Station, where I hopped the Greyhound bus back to New York City (and to work, *sigh*)  Thanks for the hospitality!

Our last day in Cape Cod. Last night, the town experienced a brief power outage, causing all the alarm clocks at the Cove to reset. As a result, we slept through our planned deep-sea fishing trip on Nantucket Sound. Ah well, there’s always next year…

After catching up on a couple more installments of 24, the five of us set out to explore some of the other Cape towns. J’s and my previous day’s work studying Chowhound’s New England boards seemed to pay off when we were able to suggest the widely recommended Brewster Fish House for lunch (after being denied a table over the phone the night before.)

We arrived, fully expecting a peak-lunchtime crowd at the popular no-reservations eatery. As we pulled into the near empty parking lot, though, we realized pretty quickly that something was amiss. Sure enough: a fellow would-be diner informed us that the restaurant was closed for Labor Day. Boo.

On to our fallback: The Impudent Oyster – another recommendation from the foodie boards, located just off Chatham’s main thoroughfare. Steamers (slightly gritty), still more fish and chips (“London style,” i.e., thickly battered), scallop sandwiches and shrimp wraps – all fresh and all tasty.

Afterwards the five of us strolled through the center of the picturesque Cape Cod town, which took all of fifteen minutes. We happened upon a book-signing in progress at the Yellow Umbrella bookstore, and I chatted briefly with local author Dorothy Leone, an interesting older woman who was there promoting her book, “Where the Herring Run,” a historical fiction based on the life of Albert Crosby. Leone worked in the Brewster town clerk’s office for many years and used to lead tours of the 1888 Crosby Mansion, which provides the setting for her novel.

On Chatham’s Main Street, two of the fifty-eight whales on The Whale Trail, Cape Cod’s summer public art project. Mr. Whalevedere…

… and Dr. Wellbe. (“Whale-be” would have been punnier.) With caption: “Get Whale Soon!”

For dessert, we rounded out our list of eating recommendations with mixed-to-order soft serve cones — 24 flavor choices: I had the Creme de Menthe — from old timey Kream N’ Kone, home of the self-proclaimed “Best Fried Seafood Anywhere.”

Another afternoon of shop-hopping, and then dinner at Lobster Boat, per family tradition, before J, J and I set out on the hour and half ride back to Cambridge. As usual, my luggage had expanded considerably during the trip, and I had no choice but to leave behind my new towels and dirty laundry for Mom and Dad to cart home later in the week.