Anniversaries, Grilled Icebergs and Openings

The proof that this balmy spring weather is being coordinated by the anti-Christ

is shown on our thermometer on the first day of spring, 2012:

(Outside temp and inside temp, respectively.)

As Garrison Kiellor would say, it’s been a busy week in Lake Wobegon, only substitute New York.  He’s always been a favorite of mine, Garrison – when he had a morning talk show I'd listen in the barn while milking the cows, who loved it.  They are picky about what they listen to, cows.  Turn on some dis-harmonius jazz or psychedelic guitar riffs and watch their production plummet.  Or heavy metal.  (With the possible exception of certain Led Zeppelin songs, as in not "Dazed and Confused" but "Going to California").  

(Photo from deadline.com)

But Garrison had such a soothing voice and he’d play songs they enjoyed, like Anne Murray's "You Needed Me," which Garrison actually hated but his co-host Jim Ed Poole (Tom Keith) adored, the former saying Murray's music was like suffocating on maple syrup, or something to that effect.  Then Garrison got his "Prairie Home Companion" show going, we sold the cows (long story there), 

I divorced, went back to school, moved to Brooklyn, etc. 

Which brings us back to New York.

 Frank's and my anniversary is March 24th, and we celebrate this one - the 19th (!!!) - by going out to dinner at Flatbush Farms, 76 St. Marks Place in Brooklyn, where I order an appetiser of “Grilled Iceberg Lettuce.”  I’m not a big fan of the boldly non-nutritional staple, the greenest thing on many American tables, which my mother had permanently ensconced in its own special Tupperware container—but grilling seems so exotic.  Throwing caution to the wind, I'm rewarded by a subtle smoky flavor and Caesar dressing like a creamy hummus littered with crunchy crostini.  Not your mother’s iceberg lettuce!  I do all but lick my plate.  Well, maybe a bit of a lick...

Can "grilled iceberg" be a sly reference to global climate change

or am I reading too much into it?

Frank and I, lo those 19 years ago, got married by a JP 

at 1 Centre Street, the big downtown courthouse in Manhattan 

at 9AM on Wed., March 24th, 1993.  We wanted to do it on the Equinox 

to make it properly pagan, but the scheduling didn't work out.

 I was working at the Anita Shapolsky Gallery in SoHo and took the day off, 

and Frank had every Wednesday off during his stint as the Chair of Fine Arts at Pratt.

Here's our wedding announcement and

 pics from our reception book, put together by Nina Leto-Mayleas, shown above with Frank.

We are on the left, looking like mere kids, and Frank's friend Pedro and his wife on the right.  

Sadly, Pedro died ten years ago of of a heart attack at the age of 56.

On our way to the Flatbush Farm restaurant from the studio, we pass a true monstrosity (an alien space ship?  some random space junk put here by the Chinese? these being guesses made on my Facebook post) looming at the intersection of Flatbush and Atlantic Avenues, one of most highly trafficked corners in the universe, obviously the best place for a new basketball stadium currently owned by the Russian billionaire Mikhail Prokhorov who wheeled and dealed with Bruce Ratner to buy this wonderful thing, the only thing left after the meltdown of the huge, ill-planned and ill-fated Atlantic Yards project, besides all the displaced people and destroyed neighborhoods, that is.

This side of the building has windows that reflect the 

fierce waning afternoon sun right into the eyes of drivers.

Prohorov is running for President against Vladimir Putin.  

Perhaps if he wins he'll move the Nets to Russia, lifting the entire stadium on a space-crane out of

Brooklyn and dropping it in the middle of Moscow.

Speaking of cranes, this one was spotted on Third Street, where I live, last week.

The truck it sprang from advertised "We get it up fast."

That morning a violin player was playing a beautiful classical piece in the 7th Avenue

B/Q station, and then "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."

He was on the wrong side of the tracks, otherwise I would have dropped some big bucks, or at least one, into his violin case.

At Kingsborough where I teach painting and art history I ran across this edition of "Art News."

Can this cut-up cover be seen as an anti-feminist statement,  

or am I reading too much into it?

And last but not least, this week sees another anniversary, this one the big opening of 

Gallery 128's 25th Anniversary Exhibition

which features my video "Animated Abstraction 2"

that takes a small detail of one of my former abstract paintings and puts it through 

its After Effects paces, 

like the painting having a dream of itself.

Also an elegant work by Jack Sal is in the show:  ink, gesso and silk surgical tape,
 a piece that is subtle yet strong, serene yet emphatic.

I'm not taking very good pictures with my Iphone tonight, it appears.

I forget to take one of my own installation.

Don't show this to the Painted People - I don't know what their reaction will be.

Here's the scene outside the gallery, Kuzuko Miyamoto is on the far left, the director of the gallery

who has been with it from the inaugural exhibition, which also

included Sol Lewitt, Jean-Michel Basquiat and Milton Resnick.

Also in the show is one of Kuzuko's paintings from the 1960's that was recently found - 

it had been bought at auction by David Hammond.

Across the street is another opening next to Gary's Unisex Hair Salon, 

and a police car,

obviously there for crowd control!