billion dollars worth of art
Sunday, October 15 2006
setting: Upper East Side, Manhattan, New York
Gretchen and I had spent the night in separate bedrooms in Wendy's apartment; evidently she doesn't usually host couples. This morning we went out for bagels and coffee at nearby Tal's Bagels, which appears to be operated mostly by Indians (dot not feather). As always in New York bagelrias, the service was prompt and gruff.
Later we caught a cab to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see the ongoing exhibit of Post Impressionist art collected by Ambroise Vollard. Many of the classics were there, including Picasso's Blue Period guitarist, familiar Van Goghs, bathing scenes by Cézanne, and Gauguin's large burlap dreamscapes. Vollard's taste ran similar to my own in that he was not a big fan of of either Monet or Matisse. We'd arrived at the opening of the museum and made a beeline for the Van Gogh room so we could be there before the others, and this allowed us to see it mostly by ourselves. It's not often you get to hang out in a room almost alone with a billion dollars worth of art. (I feel the same way when I'm the only one crossing the George Washington Bridge at four in the morning.)
The ride home was as pleasant as the one downriver had been, and again we were riding on the side of the train nearest the river so I could watch it and occasionally snap pictures. I felt unusually relaxed and content, as if I was on some wonderful (though subtle) drug.
Wendy and Gretchen on the streets of Manhattan.
The Palisades above the Hudson on the New Jersey side of the river.
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