New York, I love it.
The subway system. Rushing you express from 96th Street way downtown to the Village in about 15 minutes, providing a series of small performances along the way that the residents of the city mostly ignore.
On the subway
Central Park. When I arrived towards the end of March, signs of spring were just beginning and the weather was snowy, but now brilliant yellow forsythia is coming into full bloom and lighting the way towards summer.
Dusk in Central ParkThe theatres. Entering the Lincoln Center one night with friends Joe and Anne Bacal to see War Horse , a play they had booked for us and I knew nothing about, I encountered the remarkable artistry of Cape Town puppet maestros Basil Jones and Adrian Kohler. The play concerns a beloved horse who is shipped to France to play a role on the battlefield in WW1. The cast was brilliant, but undoubtedly the stars of the play were the life size horses, quivering and snorting, pawing and rearing, more real, more sensitive than the human cast.
War HorseNew York. I was there for almost three weeks, but the days were so full of incident, of events, of people, of me trying to get a New York version of my art project Other Voices Other Cities done, there was no time to stop and blog. Over the next week, I will be looking back at some of the best moments.
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