“Pretend It’s a City”

Title from Martin Scorcese’s new series on Fran Lebowitz

Retreating back home to the Berkshires for a few days, is offering me some perspective on these past six weeks in NYC. I’m taking a breather from the whirlwind of the city where we ended up this winter for medical reasons. Granted, it’s Covid time and the streets are far quieter (to the point of resembling a ghost town), so why call it a “whirlwind”? Many say all over the country and beyond that even while stuck at home, the day fills up. For us though, the day has often been defined by doctors, nurses, and technicians: i.e appointments. There’s a real schedule and the appointments get made, changed, cancelled. or added onto. Intense. My appointment, when possible, is to head to Broadway, Park Avenue, the Hudson River or the Metropolitan Museum, the Guggenheim and the Whitney. A highlight early on was walking the High Line with David and visiting Battery Park. Not for a while will this happen; one of the principal reasons being the pandemic.

Upon writing my first blog for 2021, I chose the top photograph for a reason. It features a dark tunnel, silhouetted by trees and two people walking with a late afternoon sunlight illuminating the river and the shore beyond. It struck me later as symbolic for these times both in the world and in my life. I had shot it just after the horrors of January 6th. This week, we have a new president and vice president, who happens to be a woman and more. For many of us, the past four years have been like living in a dark — very dark, tunnel. Combined with the devastating pandemic, and its economic and social impacts dragging on, the light seems forever out of reach. Perhaps we can finally reach the other side. The river though is wide and the current strong.

Outdoors I feel a sense of space and time, something I’ve never experienced here before. Unless I’m grabbing a few groceries, flowers, or prescriptions which I do quickly, I really have no where to end up except back in the safety of our own apartment. Actually, that’s not quite true: I relish heading to outdoor spaces such as Central Park and Riverside Park where people cavort with their children or close friends and, of course, dogs. The man below, on Riverside Drive, told me that he comes out each day and plays his guitar on the front step of the elegant door of his building. Isn’t there something retro about him?

Closed restaurants, some with a few tables outdoors; boarded up stores like Brooks Brothers or Le Bon Pain; dark theaters and homeless people in empty subways or on the street in front of Victoria’s Secret. In the slide show below you can see Park Avenue, which, like many streets, is devoid of traffic.

Fortunately, I feel blessed to be able to visit museums (open to 20% capacity) as are these two ladies:

Winter and snowfall made its appearance when we first arrived in NY. Also bringing back memories were a few skaters in Rockefeller Plaza. No lines though. To my eye their wild reflections in a mirror simply added visual interest. After all, I had just been to the MoMA…