Silliness and Sophistication: A Trip to Grounds for Sculpture

Here I am trying to get the attention of this highly preoccupied gentleman at Grounds for Sculpture in Hamilton, New Jersey.

"Pardon me, Sir. Do you have any Grey Poupon?"

Over the Memorial Day weekend, I traveled with three friends to Grounds for Sculpture in Hamilton, New Jersey. We actually made a weekend of it, spending Saturday in Seaside Heights, Sunday afternoon at Grounds for Sculpture and Monday at the Adventure Aquarium in Camden.

We had a little bit of difficulty at the outset. My friend Iris, our trip organizer, bought our four tickets online.  We traveled to the grounds in two separate vehicles. Iris and I were in one with all four of the tickets. Adrienne and Jeannie, who arrived first, discovered that they needed tickets to enter the gates at the parking lot, so they purchased two more tickets to enter the gates. Now, Iris had two extra tickets she had purchased. She read that the tickets were nonrefundable, but I had a feeling that, if they understood our blunder, they would make an exception in our case. Thankfully, they did, and the extra tickets were refunded. If you plan to visit with several others in different vehicles, don't make the mistake we did. 

At Grounds for Sculpture, our first stop was lunch at the Van Gogh Cafe. My friend Adrienne thought I would be enthused about this particular eating option, and she was right. I'm a fan of Van Gogh, and reading the biographical novel "Lust for Life" by Irving Stone, a few years ago, helped me appreciate him more. On a previous visit to Grounds for Sculpture, I had eaten at the Rat's Restaurant -- which seems like the last thing you should name a restaurant -- and that was special to me too for an entirely different reason. It's all themed around "The Wind in the Willows," one of my favorite books from childhood.

Adrienne and I enjoy our lunch in the Van Gogh Cafe.

At the cafe, I felt like I was inside Van Gogh's "Terrace at Night." On either side of the seating area are tiled roof lines. A yellow awning reminiscent of the painting overshadowed the cafeteria line area. The ceiling made one thing of "Starry Night."

I also had my favorite meal of the weekend here, a baguette sandwich with brie cheese, ham and Dijon mustard. This was particularly satisfying after trying a similar panini style sandwich at a different restaurant earlier. I had been a little disappointed since the mustard was skimpy and the brie, my favorite cheese, had been replaced by Swiss, my least favorite cheese.

My friends Iris and Jeannie both tried the bruschetta, and Jeannie was particularly enthusiastic about it.

Below Adrienne and I pose with one of the sculptures that was displayed indoors on the grounds. Adrienne thought we should mimic the figures' poses (and initiated a lot more silliness throughout the day.) This is a Boaz Vaadia sculpture, made up of layers of rock cut to shape. My favorite sculptures were more realistic figures, many based on famous paintings, but when you consider this unique method, this more simplistic figure is quite impressive.

Below is one of the first outdoor sculptures we saw.

Do you see a deep meaning in this odd piece of sculpture? Who knows what esoteric thing was in the mind of the sculptor. I like the cute and whimsical sheep and shepherd, but this loopy thing with a human head looks like some sort of cryptozoological creature. I'd like the sculpture much better without the Mt. Rushmore/snake hybrid, but the loops did give us fun frames for our faces.

This man in the yellow was just too rude. I mean, honestly, I know he has his girl there with him, but couldn't he pass the bread? Or say "Hello?"

This was outside one of the eating areas, the Peacock Cafe, at Grounds for Sculpture. Even the lacy green metal chairs look like pieces of sculpture. This sculpture of the dining couple makes me think of an Impressionist painting, but I can't place which. Many of the sculptures on the grounds are 3D models of famous paintings.

In this same area, a little ways from here, another sculpture of a nude woman was sprawled at our feet. I spoke to her, saying, "Are you in any distress? Do we need to administer CPR?" As I looked up, I saw another visitor to the grounds smiling comically at my comment. I don't always let out my humorous side so spontaneously, but it's nice to be with friends who know you well and still like you ... and who aren't afraid of some silliness themselves.

Adrienne poses like a fountain at a fountain in the Water Garden. We visited the grounds on an extremely hot day, so I was grateful for this cooler area and wanted to jump into every fountain we saw. Some misters did help cool us down.

We admired this lady in the mist, and then we saw that she is a fountain too. It may not be obvious from the photo, but there is a trickle coming out beneath her. When we saw that, we giggled and passed on.

Adrienne and I are both fans of C.S. Lewis' "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," so she told me I must dance with this dryad which may belong in Narnia. So, I did.

And she joined me.

Iris had a wonderful look of anguish while posing with Edvard Munch's "The Scream." You'll notice that he is concave. We were inside a small structure here, and his convex form was visible on the other side of the wall.

Many of my favorite areas were indoors in the main building, the Seward Johnson Center for the Arts. Here is another tribute to Van Gogh in a 3D reproduction of "Bedroom in Arles." It was so interesting to be inside this painting with its bright colors, thick outlines and slightly skewed shapes. I felt like Mary Poppins who had hopped into a chalk pavement picture. "Chalk pavement pictures? I ask you, and highly questionable outings of every other kind!"

Jeannie posed very prettily with the "Mona Lisa," and Adrienne posed sweetly with Mona Lisa's guard.

Don't they make an adorable couple? Mona Lisa had a guard on either side of her. The other looked rather serious, but this one had such a lively gleam n his eye.

I posed with "The Girl with the Pearl Earring."

I said "Oh, pardon me," when I walked into a room and saw this lady, a replica of Eduouard Manet's "Olympia." Jeannie tried to point out the flowers that her servant offered, but she didn't seem very interested.

All in all, it was a very enjoyable day. The Water Garden, a few trees, a trellised walkway and an ice cream break at the Gazebo made the heat more bearable. Be prepared with cash at the Gazebo. They can't take credit or debit cards.

I'd recommend a visit to Grounds for Sculpture in Hamilton, New Jersey if you are in the area.

Big Band Holidays at Lincoln Center

Jazz at Lincoln Center is located in the Frederick P. Rose Hall complex within the Time Warner Center at Columbus Circle. The Jazz at Lincoln Center sign is obvious from the street.

When my friends and I entered the building, however; what we noticed first was The Shops at Columbus Circle, as we walked past several storefronts. Our Big Band performance was in the Rose Theater in the building. We took an elevator to the sixth floor where we had a private box. This was my first time -- in my memory -- having a box seat. Stephan called them "cheap seats," and I suppose they were comparatively, $38 per ticket, but I did not at all mind this perspective. Our box was directly above the stage, and, I think, I probably noticed things from this bird's eye view that I would not have seen even in a front row seat. It was also a comfortable spot for a migraineur. I suffered no discomfort from either the volume of the music or any lighting effects. White lights in snowflake shapes were projected onto the boxes above the band, and this was a pleasant, festive touch. I later told my friends that, as much as I enjoy the music of Trans-Siberian Orchestra, it probably would not suit my migraine brain to attend one of their live concerts with all of their dizzying colored light effects. (Migraine aura gives me enough of a disco light effect without any outside help.)

The photo below is not mine and doesn't show quite the perspective I had from where we were seated but should give you some idea.

Wynton Marsalis, the band leader, was the only band member previously familiar to me, mostly for his classical trumpet recordings. I heard his voice making the introduction to the performance, and, at first, I did not spot him and thought he was off to the side of the stage where I could not see him. No, he was tucked away in the third row next to the drummer and with the rest of the trumpet section. When I heard his trumpet solo in "Jingle Bells", their opening song, I spotted him and heard the beautiful, sonorous sound he made with his instrument.

It was interesting to me to see what mutual respect the band members had for one another. As different members had their improv solos, I would notice the body language and movements of the other members, noting their appreciative smiles, head bobbles, foot tapping and swaying.

Some of the thoughts that flitted through my mind during this performance may seem a little strange. The last previous live band performance I've seen is, most likely, that of a high school band. What a difference it makes when each of the band members are playing on this level of expertise and professionalism. I almost forgot that it is perfectly appropriate to applaud after instrumental solos in a jazz concert. (I suppose it has been a while since I've been to a live jazz performance.) I do know this is the expected etiquette, but I suppose I am thinking of classical concerts and other formal occasions, even some graduation ceremonies, where you are expected to hold your applause until the end. There were even some "woops" of appreciation from the audience members occasionally, and, once or twice, my little introverted self was among the "woopers."

At one point, Doug, a friend in our party, leans over and says, "It's amazing how they can make these horns 'talk.'" I thought that was an interesting observation of his.

I also enjoyed the vocals of Denzal Sinclaire on songs such as "Caroling, Caroling" and "The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire.)" He looks like a bit of a hipster dude, doesn't he? (This was not his attire on the night of the concert.)

"Smooth" is the first adjective that suggests itself for describing his voice. I want to compare him, and yet I don't want to compare him to Nat King Cole. I'm such a believer in individualism that it seems to detract from his individuality to make this comparison. I would not call him a carbon copy of anyone, but it is probably safe to say that Nat King Cole is likely one of his musical influences, and seeing, later on the Internet, that he has performed concerts of the Nat King Cole Songbook, seems to clinch this suspicion. Probably, he would find my comparison more complimentary than otherwise. At one point, while he was singing, my friend, Elizabeth, whispers to me, "He sounds like someone. Who does he sound like?" I whispered back, "Nat King Cole." She quickly agreed with me,  letting me know this was the thought she had in her mind too.

At the finale of "Caroling, Caroling", he did a little fancy scat singing and including the line, "If I were a bell, I'd go ding, dong, ding dong ding." The tune and lyric reference to "Guys and Dolls" almost felt like a private joke among music appreciators. I once saw a T-shirt on zazzle.com that said, "Yes, I know all the lyrics to every musical, so sue me, sue me, shoot bullets through me," the latter part of which, for those who might not be so familiar with the play, is also a "Guys and Dolls" reference.

Another song that stands out to me was the band's rendition of "Winter Wonderland", starring a different vocalist, Audrey Shakir. The photo below is not mine again (if the gettyimages watermark was not enough of a clue to this fact), but this is the exact sparkly blue gown she wore in the performance I saw. I love her expression here.

This was an interesting piece visually as well as auditorily. In the introduction to the piece, I noticed the front row saxophone section set aside their saxophones for a flute, bassoon and clarinets. Trumpets and trombones used mutes during this part also. There were switches back and forth from woodwinds to saxophone and from muted to unmuted as the musical mood fluctuated. Shakir also did some fun scat singing.

The closing piece, "Silent Night," might stand out as a favorite for me. It had a bit of a swing to it, and as I did a bit of a head and upper body waggle, Elizabeth turned to me and said with surprise, "I didn't think you had it in you." It had a swing to it and yet was mellow enough to fit with "a silent night." Yet, it was by no means a lullaby.

To read about my preshow dining experience, read A Delicious Thing Happened on the Way to Lincoln Center

A Delicious Thing Happened On the Way to Lincoln Center

This Dec. 19th, I had my first experience at Lincoln Center in New York City. I've lived in the suburbs of the city my entire life, but up until a few years ago, I had never been to a Broadway play either. I'm gradually building up my artsy experiences in the city. 

Years ago, I went with my parents to Carnegie Hall to see a cousin perform with her choir. Some years back, I went to see an off off Broadway -- or was it three offs? -- production of C.S. Lewis' "The Screwtape Letters", a kind of one man play by Max McLean. I don't remember what year that was. My ticket, which I kept, yields no such information, only the day and month, February 27th. I do know it predates by a few years my experience of two Disney Broadway plays in 2009. My friend Debra used points accumulated on her Disney credit card for play discounts, and she and I saw both "The Lion King" and "Mary Poppins" that year. In 2011, I had the interesting experience of seeing The Metropolitan Opera on film in the city. So, I did not see a live performance. Instead, a friend and I sat in outdoor seats just outside the opera house and saw a free showing of Puccini's "La Rondine", projected on a large screen. I have seen several of their other films on PBS on TV, and the large screen showing so close to the opera house does have a different feel than watching the TV at home. Now, in 2015, I experience Big Band jazz at Lincoln Center.

I went with my married friends, Stephan and Elizabeth. (The names have been changed to protect the lives of the innocent.) Suffice it to say, that when I asked my friends if they minded being mentioned in my blog, these are the names they picked out for themselves. After meeting them at their home and setting off, Stephan picked up the fourth member of our party, a coworker. I think his anonymity will still be protected if I give his actual first name, Doug. Doug acted as Stephan's wing man and co-navigator.

When we arrived in the city, Stephan parked in the Time Warner parking garage, and we headed out on foot first to the Holiday Market at Columbus Circle, having a few hours to kill before our concert began.

The photos are not mine. This would have been a good time to take my own photos, I know, but my schedule has been so packed that I did not get myself quite organized. I did try to find photos elsewhere on the Internet that would help to give the appropriate visuals. For some details, you will have to let me paint a picture with my words.

We circulated among the outdoor tents and did what my friend Jin calls "eye shopping." A few impressions stood out to me from the different tents: Indian sculpture style Buddha heads that were like lanterns, illuminated all over with tiny lights sculpted into their shapes, hand carved wooden Christmas ornaments with some jointed Pinocchio marionettes among them, and some German specialty food products with a sign offering non-alcoholic früwine (spelling?) which, my Internet research seems to indicate, must be some sort of hot wine. Stephan and Doug, being gentlemanly, let the women lead the way. Elizabeth and I did stop at one tent to feel the texture of some silk velvet scarves. I love pattern, so I noticed some lovely burnout velvet. Other than that, we quickly made one circle through the tents and came back to our starting point. It didn't seem to make sense to jostle the crowd to more closely inspect things we had no intention of buying. I did notice something, which, to me, was probably the most interesting offering, as we made our exit, beautiful journals with hand-worked leather craft bindings. I love leather craft and books and, of course, writing.

We decided to have dinner, and Stephan led the way to The Smith on Broadway, which Stephan claims "attracts a hip crowd." We did not find a seat there. Stephan had tried but had been unable to make a reservation. We then went instead to the neighboring Cafe Fiorello, where the menus brag that it is a "Lincoln Center Institution." We did find seats here, although the place was well packed. Our host led us through a tight corridor between small tables filled with eating patrons on either side. If a waiter was heading the opposite direction, I turned myself sideways.

This is a view of the interior of the restaurant. We sat at a table at the right side. From my perspective, I saw those two paintings on the left wall reflected in the mirror on the opposite wall.

I ordered a personal sized hen of the woods mushroom pizza from the list of pizza blanche or white, sauceless pizzas. The menu listed the ingredients, aside from mushrooms, as parmesan cream, braised leeks and burrata mozzarella. At first, I thought "hen of the woods" was a poetic name for the dish, and then I thought, more correctly, that it was a poetic name for the variety of wild mushroom. I found a photo of it growing in the wild.

Cooked, they appeared frilly and fan-shaped.

Our waiter spoke the Queen's English, that is to say, he had a pleasant British accent. "Ah, that is a very aromatic and savory pie," he told me, when I put in my order.

The pizza had a cracker thin crust. In addition to the liberal sprinklings of frilly wild mushrooms, it had intermittent mounds of the burrata mozzarella and halved fresh grape tomatoes. I'm sure I tasted the leeks but did not find them visible. I had to agree with our waiter's assessment. It was very savory and delicious. Comparing it to a mushroom pizza I like at California Pizza Kitchen, I thought I detected some truffle oil or, perhaps, I was detecting some olive oil that, soaking in the mushroom juices, had become "truffle-like." It was a wonderful blend of flavors, and I was only sorry that I could not quite finish the whole thing. I might have done so, if I had not ordered dessert.

Doug had also ordered a personal white pizza, a sausage pizza with fennel sausage, cotechino, nduja and pepperoni. I asked him what he thought of his. I think Doug would have been satisfied with a more traditional New Jersey/New York style pizza. He did not care too much for the super thin crust. He admitted it was tasty but "like eating tacos." In order to make a comparison, here is a more traditional New Jersey/New York style pizza.

And here is a Fiorello's thin crust pizza ...

I like our traditional pizza too, but I'm also open to some of its modern, gourmet manifestations.


Stephan ordered a calzone, and Elizabeth ordered the salmon which came with lentils and an organic avocado and mint puree.

At one point, Elizabeth asked our waiter if he was "an actor acting as a waiter." He admitted he was doing mostly voice acting.

"You have a wonderful voice," I told him. "I did notice that."

Our waiter's face glowed as he answered, "Well, thank you." I think I made the man's evening.

He told us he was currently working on narrating an audio book. I wanted to ask him which book but didn't.

I even joked with Elizabeth about commissioning him to narrate my novel. I'm not sure that fits in my budget, but it's a pleasant thought.

Elizabeth decided to get the dessert which persuaded me to do the same. She ordered the chocolate mousse, and I ordered the tartufo, chocolate and vanilla gelato encrusted with chocolate chips and hiding a cherry inside.

Confusion ensued when a different server arrived at our table with our desserts. This waiter put the tartufo at Elizabeth's place. In his hands, he held an empty plate and twin side by side buckets attached with one handle. One bucket was filled with mousse, and one was filled with whipped cream. Elizabeth thought the waiter was teasing her, perhaps thinking that there was more than one serving's worth in those ample buckets and also assuming the tartufo in front of her was already a serving of chocolate mousse. Remembering the menu said that the mousse would be served table side and also recognizing the tartufo by the chocolate chip coating, I helped to straighten out the confusion. The waiter moved the plate with the tartufo to my place, gave the empty plate to Elizabeth and served the mousse and whipped cream from the buckets onto her plate.

Elizabeth and I both loved our desserts. The men's desserts consisted of refills of coffee, but they did not begrudge us our indulgence. Elizabeth rolled her eyes with enjoyment at the first bite. I offered to exchange bites with her, and she allowed me a bite of her mousse. Caution for her tree nut allergy prevented her from sampling mine. She asked me if mine had nuts, and I told her it didn't but I did not know if the chocolate chips had been processed with nuts.

Stay tuned for Part Two, the concert.