Washington DC :: USA
More from the town of smoking manholes.
Places: New York, Washington DC.
Coolest thing I did: Saw a one woman, 13 part play "off-broadway" as they say in the industry.
Coolest thing I didn´t know: The Smithsonian (off the institute fame) never set foot in the US, he just wanted to make sure their new country got off to a good start.
Since last we spoke I have been far more cultured, having gone to not only another art gallery, but also the theater in the space of a few days. Despite my usual dislike for modern art (including a legendary spat at the Tate Modern where I just ended up walking out it was all so stupid) I decided to go to the Museum of Modern Art (from here on in referred to as the MoMA). I'm glad modern meant from the late 19th century on as this means I ended up seeing loads more Van Goghs, Monets and the like. I have decided that Picasso used to be able to draw real good around the turn of the century but then obviously got his hands on some ketamine or something because everything after that looks like he's either looking at it through a broken window or a broken mind. I'm going to guess with all those pictures of absinthe bottles about the same time it was the latter. It was only towards the end that I saw all that really weird performance and installation art, some of which wasn't too bad. Then again, some of it was absolute nonsense so I felt vindicated.
I hate musicals. This fact coupled with everyone else on Earth seeming to love them no end meant I had some trouble locating something to see to tick a Broadway show off my tourist to do list. I ended up scouring the ultra liberal nonsense of the Village Voice looking for something to see that wasn't avant-guard nonsense put on by arts students and came up with a one woman show they'd panned called Bridge and Tunnel. I lined up for the half price tickets for that nights show (for anything that's not selling out months in advance you can get tickets for if you've got an hour to line up in Times Square) and wasn't sure what to expect. It turns out the woman is a genius of impersonation and she goes through a mock poetry reading done by New York immigrants. I swear she did a dozen different characters and each one was spot on and very bloody funny. There was also minimal singing, which was tops. I once saw Les Miserables and I swear to god that there wasn't that much singing in the French Revolution.
So running out of famous landmarks to gawk at I did a couple of visits to some themed areas. First day I did “rockstars that met untimely ends”. I had some trouble locating the unmarked Dakota building which saw the end of John Lennon but managed to figure out that all the tour buses were stopping out the front and everyone pointing at it. Say what you will about the man, but Mr Lennon has some impeccable taste in living arrangements. The building is amazing and right over the road from Central Park. I then took a rather long walk down to the Chelsea Hotel, which is famous mostly for lots of people who wrote stuff writing it there. It's also the location of the infamous death of Sid Vicious of the Sex Pistols and his chick Nancy. As Chelsea was the hip place to have an art gallery a couple of years ago they now show lots of paintings by up and coming artists in the lobby.
The hip place now to have an art gallery appears to be Williamsburg, which is just over the river in Brooklyn. Williamsburg was once a complete hole and the fact you can see the towers of the Marcy projects that gave the world Jay-Z (and if his lyrics are to be believed, led to a lucrative career in selling crack cocaine) tells us that it's renaissance is rather recent. It's a whole load of run down warehouses and decrepit buildings being given splashes of paint and being turned into trendy cafes and loft galleries. While it is all very hip and happening it did seem a little two hip and happening for me. I'm sure I'll be wearing some of the nonsense I saw people got up in two years from now and think nothing of it, I'm going to bet 90% of the stupid getup these people are trudging around in trying to look trendily miserable will never make it to the mainstream. Thank god. One tip girls, you'll all be wearing ballet slippers within the next 12 months, mark my words.
I also decided to see how the other half lives up in Harlem. I started walking up posh arsed Park Avenue at about 86th street knowing that I'd reach Spanish Harlem just over 96th. It's amazing how it goes from mansions to housing projects by crossing one street. Once you hit the 120s you end up in the Harlem of legend, and despite the assurances that money is being pumped into the place to sort it out it still reeks of poverty. I can't see how anyone is surprised when you put people that are mostly poor into high densities in a very small space and give them a view of the richest people in the world and be surprised that there's some tension. I know they had to come up with something but the very design of those housing towers lends itself to problems. Putting four of them around an enclosed park that can't be seen from the road seems like a very bad idea. No wonder even the police were scared to go in there at one time.
Speaking of which, the reason crime seems to be down is that the police presence in the area is staggering. While standing on 125th street taking a photo of the Apollo theater (ground zero for much of the black musical talent of the last 40 years) police cars came screaming in from nowhere and demanded that everyone clear the block. One old man grumbled to me as I past that this happens all the time and that they just do it to stop the young blokes gathering on the street corners in groups of more than 3. I'm actually glad someone spoke to me because despite trying to be open minded the regular stares at me being the only white face on the street were getting unnerving. I'm sure these people are just trying to get through their problems like everyone else but when those groups of young 50 cent look a likes come down the footpath in front of you can't help but tense up. I even found myself trying to guess just how many handguns there would have been in one street alone. You can try and rationalise all you want, but it is a bit terrifying.
So my final stop in tourism land was to take the train up to the South Bronx and see what must be the soul of the city, Yankee stadium. While I'm no baseball fan I was in awe at the amount of history tied to the place and the hardened looking Italian local that took us around while explaining everything in an accent that you only hear on the Sopranos made it far more authentic. I guess the Americans know enough about marketing to make that team and ground world famous. I can't imagine someone who knew nothing about cricket being as impressed by the MCG.
The view from the stadium, as an added bonus, takes in the biggest, baddest housing projects of them all, dominating the skyline of the South Bronx. This, despite what some people claim, was the birthplace of hip-hop, and despite Brooklyn and Queens providing far more of the stars you've heard on the radio, it was the reaction to the sheer hopelessness of life in those towers and the required inventiveness to overcome it that gave us the rapping and scratching that now seem to colour all popular music.
What more can I say to you? New York has exceeded all expectations I'd placed on it. I now really do wish I'd been able to get out of Toronto on time so I could have spent another couple of days here but time has run out.
The view out on the bus was just as good. Once you get out of the tunnel on the New Jersey side and look back you can see the whole extent of the island, two massive waves of skyscrapers breaking over the low rise of the villages and Harlem. From the 5th avenue stores that look like museums (and make Oxford street look like Parklea Markets) to the streets full of yellow cabs and steaming manhole covers, it just is an incomparable place.