Across the Wild East River...

Made the leap into full hipsterdom by meeting Brad in Williamsburg, he and Joe's temporary HQ. Their railroad flat had all the initial charm of a Polish laundry, but inside it looks like home.

We saw some of the sights on a stroll around the neighborhood, pausing at the East River to admire the soon to be luxury-condo views. There were two examples of site-specific art there. One was the sidewall of a tire surrounded by a nimbus of discarded and sodden work gloves. Given the rampant construction going on, it was poignant and fitting.

Next to that was a small chainlink fence with plastic bags attached to the face, mostly the small types but with a few large trash bags. The breeze coming off the river made them swell and fill, kinda looking like the "East River whitefish" you might find just at the shoreline. Again, evocative of time and place. What more do you want in art?

Of course, I could have taken photos, but I've freed myself of the chains of my camera for the rest of the vacation.

We had lunch at a marvelous little cafe, whose name I will fill in when I nag Brad to go back. St. Helen Cafe! Its walls and ceiling are covered with pressed tin. The main attraction were the paired axes on the window. Nothing says fine dining like weaponry. Our waitress was charming and helpful, even when we skeptically asked to see the menu before committing ourselves. I had baked eggs with parmesan and red pepper, which was just about perfect. My cranberry and orange tea completed a perfect small meal on a cloudy day.

Hopefully I'll get to come back in the spring.

Last night we saw Voyage the first part of Tom Stoppard's "The Coast of Utopia" trilogy of plays. Thoroughly dramatic opening, with a stunning special effect of waves crashing on the stage got me to sit up in my seat. It was long and wordy, no surprise for Stoppard, but I was mesmerized. It helps to have read some Turgenev, to understand how modern ideas of the self came to Russia really at just the wrong time. To our eyes and ears, the Russians seem almost laughably naive, but they were struggling against a thousand years of groupthink, and needed time to adjust to seeing themselves as individuals in a modern setting. I hope to get back to see parts two and three next year.

Tonight it's off to see the new David Hare play, "The Vertical Hour." Review to come tomorrow.