On Saturday May 25, 2024 I made another bus trip to New York City. My main objective on this trip was to see the Brian Friel play “Molly Sweeney” at the Irish Repertory Theatre. On the four hour bus ride to the city I continued to read The Mad Scientist’s Guide to World Domination on my Kindle. This gave me the thought that “secret artistic powers” might be a good alternative to using the word “genius” since nobody accepts the concept of genius anymore. The bus arrived in New York City at 10:00 a.m. but it did not leave us off at the usual spot. We were dropped off on West 42nd Street between 7th and 8th Avenue, across from the New Victory Theater. This was inconvenient for me since it meant I had a longer walk to reach MoMA by 11:00 a.m.
Along the way to MoMA I took photos of Second Stage Theatre on West 43rd Street and 8th Avenue, Theatre Circle on West 44th Street, the Lena Horne Theatre (previously the Brooks Atkinson Theatre) on West 47th Street, and finally Ellen’s Stardust Diner. Ellen’s Stardust Diner is near where we are usually dropped off so once I reached that my notes guided me the rest of the way. Although the Museum of Modern Art is my favorite art museum in New York City I would not have gone there again were it not for their exhibit on Käthe Kollwitz. Käthe Kollwitz is famous for her powerful artwork showing human suffering. Although most figurative artists do portraits of models with a serene look on the face, Käthe Kollwitz’s portraits show intense states of grief. I love dramatic production photos which show characters undergoing some intense emotion on stage so I can appreciate Käthe Kollwitz’s work. I arrived at the Museum of Modern Art at 10:30 a.m. and since that was when they opened I did not have to wait at the MoMA Design Store across the street like last time.
Besides the Käthe Kollwitz exhibit there were other exhibits which seem to indicate that the museum is on a social justice kick. The LaToya Ruby Frazier exhibit “Monuments of Solidarity” was just a lot of photos documenting the UAW (United Auto Workers). Seeing all these photos of the working class in suburbia was a bit depressing since I associate this with the mundane. But elevating the mundane to high art through a lens is something I can appreciate. The Joan Jonas exhibit “Good Night Good Morning” was hard to find. It was located on the 6th floor but if you take an elevator to the 6th floor you will only find yourself at the Terrance Cafe with no way to get to the exhibit. This is something I should document for future visits as there is a trick to finding an exhibit on the top floor. Anyway, I did not care for the Joan Jonas’s primitive video art at all. I thought it was boring and pretentious.
I did see a lot of more famous works of modern art in the permanent exhibits; Pablo Picasso’s Three Musicians, Otto Dix’s Dr. Mayer-Hermann, Max Beckmann’s Family Picture,
Amedeo Modigliani’s Anna Zborowska, a Bauhaus model, Charles Burchfield’s The First Hepaticas. Constantin Brâncusi’s Bird in Space , Marcel Duchamp’s To Be Looked at (from the Other Side of the Glass) with One Eye, Close to, for Almost an Hour, Egon Schiele’s Squatting Woman, Gustav Klimt’s Hope, II, Vincent van Gogh’s Portrait of Joseph Roulin, Pablo Picasso’s Girl with a Mandolin, Pablo Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, Pablo Picasso’s Boy Leading a Horse, Henri Rousseau’s The Sleeping Gypsy, Lucie Cousturier’s Reclining Woman and Edward Hopper’s Gas. The model of a Bauhaus building offered a little inspiration because I think I could reproduce it as a p5.js sketch.
After leaving MoMA my next objective was to do some shopping at the Drama Book Shop. I was pretty much repeating my last trip. I walked downtown to the Drama Book Shop on West 39th Street and did not use the subway. Surprisingly I did find some books on my want last and I was in and out of the Drama Book Shop in a flash. I bought three plays by Sheila Callaghan (Kate Crackernuts, Scab, Everything You Touch). These were in Samuel French acting editions and one Playscripts acting edition. This playwright was included in my old research on NYC playwrights but I had never really checked out her work. I also bought The Greek Plays by Ellen McLaughlin because I will be reading more Greek plays. This playwright was also included in my old research. All together I spent $71.71 at 12:50 p.m. according to my receipt. I used my credit card since I did not have that much cash on me.
My next objective was to take the subway to Chelsea so I could be on time for the show at the Irish Repertory Theatre. There is a Times Square – 42 Street subway entrance on West 4oth Street which is very close to the Drama Book Shop. But I still needed to take a 1 line train heading downtown to reach 23rd Street. This required a very long walk through the enormous underground subway hub that is the Times Square – 42 Street station. Fortunately my Metrocard from my last trip was still good for a few more rides and had not expired. Since it was very hot out I had to get something to drink before the show. I went to East One Coffee Roasters which is in my trip directions and ordered a Cold Brew. I figured some coffee would help me to stay awake during the show but I still had a bit of trouble staying awake.
Now comes a review of the Brian Friel play, “Molly Sweeney”. This was the last play of their Friel Project, a retrospective of the work of renowned Irish playwright Brian Friel. I read this play a week or two ago. I don’t like plays which are made up of long monologues by a few characters, but the ending was very tragic and I like tragedies. I must admit that seeing the play performed brought out more of the brilliance in the writing. Each of the characters had a distinct personality and told their stories from their perspective. Frank was an eccentric and provided most of the comic relief. Mr. Rice, the pompous eye doctor, also had a tragic story and a dream of recovering from losing his wife. Rufus Collins’s performance as Mr. Rice was particularly masterful and I found myself watching him more closely than the other actors. I could not relate to the story except in the sense that Molly lived in her own world which is very different from the world of the sighted. I too live in a world which is very different from the world of theater which does not know inspiration. At least, I don’t think their world is as fully informed by inspiration as is my world. Of course, they would never feel that their world is lacking anything or that they are deprived in any way, but then neither would a blind person. Yes, what I instinctively picked up on was that this was a play about more than just clinical blindness, but many other forms of blindness and a limited understanding of the world based on what could be seen or understood. I thought a casual mention of Aristotle towards the end of the play was meant to suggest the famous Allegory of the Cave, but that would be Plato, not Aristotle. So I’m not sure why Aristotle was brought up in the passage “And in his very limited spare time he has taken up philosophy. It is fascinating stuff. There is a man called Aristotle that he thinks highly of. I should read him, he says.”
Once the play was over I made my way to Loulou for dinner. Loulou is a classic French bistro in Chelsea. I had a lot of trouble getting the menu to show up on my smartphone and the waiter had to help me. I did not order anything French, just a Loulou Burger with french fries. I was very hungry so I ate the entire burger but not the french fries. As I was eating I thought about how unfortunate it was that so many people working in the arts are blind to beauty and find themselves devoted to futile social activism as a replacement for the beautiful. I reflected on how miserable and bitter they become and how their art is blighted by that spirit. Fortunately I am preserved from that grim fate because I possess a sure sense of the sublime and cannot be diverted to the pursuit of a lost cause. What I saw at MoMA was just the latest example of a fine arts institution corrupted by the social justice craze.
After dinner I had nothing else to do except wait until 8:00 p.m. for the bus ride home. Since it was only 6:00 p.m. I had a lot of time to kill. I took the subway uptown to the 50th Street Station. I had to take a C train. From there I had a long walk to find the Irish Arts Center in Hell’s Kitchen. That was a very long walk just to take a photo and my right knee and hips hurt from my limping gait. However, I had been unable to find any decent photos of the Irish Arts Center since its redesign. Not that I’m really all that into Irish culture. It is not my specialty as a professional or a scholar. Next I walked all the way back east to find Hurley’s Saloon, the Irish pub I went to on my last trip. I ordered a cider and used their restroom.
Finally I walked to West 42nd Street and waited a long time for the bus which had to fight traffic to pull in to the bus lane. After about an hour since leaving the city our bus broke down. It took three hours for Susquehanna Trailways to send another bus to help our driver. I think there was a problem with the antifreeze. We did not switch buses. I guess the other driver helped with the mechanical problem and then followed our bus with another backup bus. We stopped at the Delaware Water Gap Pennsylvania Welcome Center to use the restrooms. I bought a $3.00 bottle of Pepsi because I was very thirsty. Fortunately I was feeling very inspired and listened to music on a thumb drive connected to my smartphone. I now have a wireless Bluetooth pair of headphones to listen to music being played on my smartphone. I had enough music to keep myself entertained for several hours. While I listed to music I did a lot of brooding about mysticism, artistic genius, visionaries and inspiration. The truth is that I do not appreciate my genius because it has not brought me wealth or fame or even the slightest degree of recognition. But that is not to say it has not brought me more subtle benefits which are perhaps harder to appreciate. At any rate, it is probably unwise to question the wisdom of my glorious Muse whom I imagine would chastise me for wanting anything more than to have known her godlike beauty.
