Category Archives: Arts

Immersing oneself in the world of the art to be inspired

Veena Rao: connecting people through film

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“I never was a dancer, but I can dance in water.”
 – member of The Harlem Honeys and Bears, from “The Honeys and Bears”

In Veena Rao’s LUNAFEST-selected short film, “The Honeys and Bears,” a group of women share their feelings of freedom in the water as part of synchronized swim team for seniors 55 years and older. “I wanted to make something fun, which reflected the joy that these ladies get from the water and from being on a team together,” said the Brooklyn-based filmmaker and producer. “Once I met the team, I really fell in love with them and looked forward to filming with them every time I had the chance.”

Freedom in the water. From "The Honeys and Bears."

Freedom in the water, from “The Honeys and Bears.”

Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Reed Flutes” from The Nutcracker Suite complements the women’s movements in the pool. One interesting thing is that while Veena conducted on-camera interviews, she left the footage on the editing room floor. Instead, she decided that “a chorus of voices under their routines made a more visually cohesive film.” And thematically, Veena pointed out, since they work as a team during their routines, each person’s role has equal importance. “It made sense to me to not focus on an individual, but rather create a portrait from different voices who all feel strongly about being on the team,” she explained.

Under water with members of the synchronized swim team.

Under water with members of the synchronized swim team.

Uncovering human motivation
Like “The Honeys and Bears,” many of Veena’s short films are documentaries. “In real life and when making films, I am interested in what drives people, what they feel passionate about, what brings them meaning, because it is the way I, and hopefully those watching my films, can connect to someone on a deeper level,” she revealed.

Sharing Abbas Sheikh's passion in "Mambai Mornings."

Sharing Abbas Sheikh’s passion in “Mambai Mornings.”

When you watch Veena’s documentaries, which are all accessible on her website, you see her subjects opening up about their dreams and fears, fully trusting the filmmaker behind the camera. In “Mumbai Mornings” (2015), Veena captures the world of Abbas Sheikh, who finds purpose in life as an ultramarathoner and hopes his success in running enables him to quit his 12-hour-a-day/six-to-seven-day-a-week job as a jewelry polisher in Mumbai.

In “Carla & Cecil” (2014), New York City-based performer Carla Rhodes related that as a nine-year-old she was mesmerized by ventriloquist Shari Lewis and her puppet Lambchop. While she dreams of one day making it big – she was featured in a local magazine about up-and-coming comedians – Carla airs the difficulty of being a ventriloquist in today’s show business. Along with her circa 1920s puppet Cecil Sinclair, she admitted, “I’m an outsider.” But through Veena’s lens, we view Carla with empathy and poignancy.

Veena behind the camera.

Veena behind the camera.

Veena has chosen diverse subjects for her documentaries – two women find joy in entering plus-size beauty pageants (“There She Is,” 2013, co-directed with Emily Sheskin), artist Heather Dewey-Hagborg exhibits masks of strangers she has created based on genetic material left behind (“Traces,” 2013, also co-directed with Sheskin), a nudist tries to practice his beliefs in an urban world (“Hangin’ Out,” 2010), an art collector struggles with the knowledge that artists’ works are going unseen in his private collection (“Not on View,” 2009), and an art dealer in New York City finds symmetry in his life as an Aikido instructor (“The Art of Balance,” 2008).

The key to drawing subjects out in documentaries is listening to their stories, according to Veena.

The key to drawing subjects out in documentaries is listening to their stories, according to Veena.

“I think the key to gaining the trust of someone you are filming, is to really listen to their story and be in the present moment with them,” Veena explained. “I think this is really hard to do, because you are constantly thinking of what you need to film, what questions you want to ask, but you really need to listen when you are making a documentary. And this is something I’m constantly trying to get better at.”

Many emerging filmmakers will agree that they want to be accepted into the best festivals, get backing to be released, and receive favorable reviews, Veena noted, “I think fundamentally, I want to make films that are deserving of the trust that the people I film with grant me. The reason I make documentaries is to connect to people, and experience their world for a little bit of time, and so truly representing their truth and point of view is so important to me.”  She went on, “I don’t believe that I can make an objective film or that objective films even exist, but I do believe in making films that give power to a character’s point of view and situation, and make the audience feel with those behind the screen.”

Memorable lines from "The Honeys and Bears": “The best part about getting old, you come to grips with many of the things you used to worry about when you were younger. And you’ve figured it out. That’s what I love about being a little older. I’ve figured a lot of things out.”

Memorable lines from “The Honeys and Bears”: “The best part about getting old, you come to grips with many of the things you used to worry about when you were younger. And you’ve figured it out. That’s what I love about being a little older. I’ve figured a lot of things out.”

From the seeds of creativity to the future
A high school photography class sparked Veena’s interest in filmmaking. “I loved the power of a photograph to connect you so deeply to a moment,” she said. “When I discovered film my freshman year of college, the possibility of creating the same connection with moving images and sound fascinated me, and I have been hooked ever since.”

Veena's second-grade teacher and he subject of her short film, "Mrs. Henderson's Kids."

Veena’s second-grade teacher and he subject of her short film, “Mrs. Henderson’s Kids.”

As a senior at New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts, she made a short film entitled “Mrs. Henderson’s Kids.” In her 2008 documentary, Veena’s former second-grade teacher shared the screen with her collection of more than 2,000 dolls and spoke of her love of teaching. “It’s one of my favorites because I think it reflects how she feels about her teaching career and her collection, and it also felt personal to me,” Veena explained. “It made me realize how deeply influential many teachers have been in my life.”

A photograph of Veena as a second grader in her short film, "Mrs. Henderson's Kids."

A photograph of Veena as a second grader in her short film, “Mrs. Henderson’s Kids.”

Her most recent work is the documentary “So You Think You Can Vote?” (2016), which incorporates animation, interviews, and archival footage. The short film was part of We the Voters: 20 Films for the People, a nonpartisan digital slate of 20 short films “designed to inform, inspire and activate voters nationwide with fresh perspectives on the subjects of democracy, elections and governance” leading up to the 2016 elections.

Veena, who is a member of the Brooklyn Filmmakers Collective and the New York Women in Film & Television Documentary Committee, is currently in production on a short documentary about two friends who are both 100 years old and whose friendship of 73 years and running dates back to when they met as nurses during World War II. And if that weren’t enough to keep her busy, she’s also in the research/pre-production phase on two films – one on a miniaturist and the other about a prisoner and his relationship to meditation.

Veena at the San Francisco premier of LUNAFEST in October 2016.

Veena at the San Francisco premier of LUNAFEST in September 2016.

“So far I’ve only made short films, so I’d love to make a feature documentary, and maybe a fiction film down the road,” Veena said. Another goal of hers: “I also want my voice to be strong and clear in my work, which I think is something that often takes time to achieve, and is something I’m working towards.” If her prolific filmography, created in a short period of time, is any indication, Veena is well on her way.

Note: You can see Veena’s short film at LUNAFEST East Bay’s screening on Saturday, March 18th, 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Theater. For more information, click here.

Seattle book tour in review: Part 3, Yakima Valley

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The origin of the name remains unknown, though there are legends that describe the derivation of the city’s name. The most popular legend explains that the daughter of a Native American chief from Moxie ran away breaking tribal rules and settled on the Yakima River. In this legend the name Yakima means “runaway.” Another derivation of the name is what the Native Americans used to refer to Yakima as, “Beginning of Life, Big Belly, and Bountiful.”
– Yakima Valley Museum

The last leg of my Seattle book tour, along with Emmy Award-winning filmmaker Marissa Aroy, was in Yakima Valley. Our tour was sponsored by numerous generous organizations, including Pinoy Words Expressed Kultura Arts (KWEKA), Alaskero Foundation, El Centro de la Raza, the Meaningful Movies Project, Filipino American Students Association (FASA) of the University of Washington, 4 Culture, Office of Arts & Culture (Seattle), Filipino American Community of Greater Yakima Valley, Imperial Gardens, Filipino American National Historical Society (FANHS) Chapter 26, and the FANHS National Office.

The perfect time to be visiting Yakima Valley.

The perfect time to be visiting Yakima Valley.

Amazing blue sky with cirrus clouds, fog in the hills, and fall across the valley floor.

Amazing blue sky with cirrus clouds, fog in the hills, and fall across the valley floor.

Not bad for taking photos through the window of a moving car! I wish I had time to stop and enjoy the scenery. Next time.

Not bad for taking photos through the window of a moving car! I wish I had time to stop and enjoy the scenery. Next time.

Maria Batayola served as our wonderful host for our book tour. She showed me a side of Seattle I had never seen (see my two previous news posts “Seattle book tour in review: Parts 1 and 2”), and for that, I am deeply grateful. On Saturday morning, October 22nd, my good friend John, who, along with his partner Kris, had welcomed me into their home for my stay in Seattle, dropped me off in Factoria, Wash., where I met up with Maria and Marissa, and away we drove to eastern Washington.

Layers of sky, cirrus clouds, foothills in fog, and forest.

Layers of sky, cirrus clouds, foothills in fog, and forest.

Just another photo of the spectacular sky.

Just another photo of the spectacular sky.

And mountains that will soon be covered with snow.

And mountains that will soon be covered with snow.

I’ve visited Seattle a number of times, but I’ve never been to the eastern part of the state. I had read David Guterson’s 1999 novel, East of the Mountains, and understood that where Seattle was lush, the eastern part of the state was arid. However, I was also told that the region would remind me of California’s Central Valley because it was rural farming land dotted with small communities.

Huge trees in Ellensburg, Wash.

Huge trees in Ellensburg, Wash.

Close-up of the blazing leaves.

Close-up of the blazing leaves.

The drive took some two and a half hours. Along the way, we saw some amazing landscape – clear streams meandering through different varieties of trees in spectacular gold, orange, and red. Bodies of water were low enough to reveal stumps of trees. And then we entered vast farmlands and signs for Honeycrisp apples. While Yakima Valley is the bread basket for numerous fruits and vegetables, the region is well known for its apples. Eastern Washington is home to more than 175,000 acres of apple orchards, with Yakima Valley being the largest apple-producing region in the state.

If you find yourself in Ellensburg, Wash., eating a meal at the Yellow Church Cafe is a must-do.

If you find yourself in Ellensburg, Wash., eating a meal at the Yellow Church Cafe is a must-do.

The interior of the restaurant.

The interior of the restaurant.

One of the best BLTs. Ever. Hands. Down.

One of the best BLTs. Ever. Hands. Down.

We stopped for lunch at this charming and popular restaurant called The Yellow Church Cafe (111 S. Pearl Street, Ellensburg, Wash. 98926, 509.933.2233), which, as you can guess, is a converted church. The food is heavenly, no pun intended. Whenever a BLT appears on the menu, that’s what I order. What was special about this BLT is that it made with their special bread, which tastes like a fluffy asiago cheese bagel, and instead of the tired mayonnaise, it had an aioli sauce. The chai latte was not overly sweet. The place was hopping. Afterwards, we wandered over to a brightly decorated house a few blocks down inhabited by happy artists. Ellensburg proved to be a quaint and beautiful town.

Entrance to the colorful and cheerful house at 101 N. Pearl Street.

Entrance to the colorful and cheerful house at 101 N. Pearl Street.

Beyond the colorful fence is a yard full of mischievous characters, including this runaway bear.

Beyond the colorful fence is a yard full of mischievous characters, including this runaway bear.

Art lives - indeed - and it also nourishes, brings beauty, gives hope, empowers, enables dreams, and so much more.

Art lives – indeed – and it also nourishes, brings beauty, gives hope, empowers, enables dreams, and so much more.

Key details and a hand waving hello and goodbye.

Key details and a hand waving hello and goodbye.

Found art of bicycle wheels makes a lovely tree.

Found art of bicycle wheels makes a lovely tree.

When we arrived in the town of Wapato, we were first met by Kuya Ray Pasqua, president of the Filipino American Community of Yakima Valley (FACYV). Kuya Ray is a leader in the community, but he also worked with Filipino American labor leader Larry Itliong during the years of the Delano Grape Strike and the United Farm Workers Union. It was an honor to meet him and to hear his stories of those difficult but very important times. FACYV’s Filipino Hall in Wapato, Wash., is the first Filipino Hall built in the United States. FACYV was preparing for its 60th anniversary the following evening, which is a big event that was anticipated to feed some 600 members of the community. It was too bad that Marissa and I would be leaving for home the following morning.

The first Filipino Community Hall in the country.

The first Filipino Community Hall in the country.

Let the 60th anniversary celebration begin!

Let the 60th anniversary celebration begin!

The Filipino Community Hall had a nice display of FACYV achievements through the years.

The Filipino Community Hall had a nice display of FACYV achievements through the years.

The Saturday evening event comprised a short reading from my novel, the screening of Marissa’s documentary, Delano Manongs: The Forgotten Heroes of the United Farm Workers Movement, and a panel discussion with Kuya Ray, Marissa, Maria and me, moderated by local reporter Ryan Yadao. Although attendance was light, the community members who showed up were very engaged in the subject and some had been involved in the farm labor movement, which was great to learn about and to meet them after the event. I can’t say it enough: It was an honor for me to hear of their sacrifices in the fields and across the country in the name of social justice for farm workers.

Group photo of some of the wonderful community members in Yakima Valley.

Group photo of some of the wonderful community members in Yakima Valley.

After the Q&A and book and DVD signing, we were invited to the home of FACYV members Fred Fontanilla, who is a retired chemist, and Bob Plummer, retired professor at Heritage University, for a wonderful dinner, which included great conversation among the 12 of us. And then FANHS Chapter 26 members Dori Peralta Baker and her husband Geoff Baker hosted us for the night. In the morning, we were treated to gorgeous views of Yakima Valley. Dori related the activity of casually counting the bald eagles and salmon in the streams, and how the hills are covered in snow in the wintertime. Dori had put together a display of local Filipino Americans who served in the Vietnam War. She told us the sobering news that Yakima Valley bearing the burden of being the region in the country with the most soldiers of color who fought in the Vietnam War. I should not be surprised, but I was still shocked by the fact that the high school counselors advised the Native American, Filipino American, and Mexican American boys to join the armed forces and serve in Vietnam War because they were not college material. I’m sure this practice was rampant across high schools in America at the time and to this day, but to have your home region bear that awful distinction is heartbreaking.

The beautiful view from our host's backyard.

The beautiful view from our host’s backyard.

Beautiful morning, looking for bald eagles.

Beautiful morning, looking for bald eagles. The hills in the background will be white with snow in the wintertime.

The canal feeds into the river, which I am assuming is the Yakima Valley River. Stunning.

The canal feeds into the river, which I am assuming is the Yakima Valley River. Stunning.

We left Yakima Valley early Sunday morning to return home. I learned so much while on this book tour and I met so many wonderful, giving people. And I saw another beautiful part of Washington State. I hope to return to Seattle and Yakima Valley in the near future – to this wonderful community that I now claim as part of my Filipino American home.

Heading back to Seattle and its fall foilage.

Heading back to Seattle and its fall foilage.

Mt. Rainier bids adieu.

Mt. Rainier bids adieu.

Seattle book tour in review: Part 2

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The sky in Seattle is so low, it felt like God had lowered a silk parachute on us.
– Maria Semple, American novelist and screenwriter

As part of Filipino American History Month, I embarked on a book tour in Seattle and Yakima Valley. Here is Part 2 of my chronicles of my time there.

Breakfast crepe and mocha at the Eastern Cafe in the International District.

Breakfast crepe and mocha at the Eastern Cafe in the International District.

While in Seattle, I stayed with my good friends, John and Kris. My husband, David, and John have known each other since pre-school. John was one of our groomsmen, and he is also the godfather of our son, Jacob. Friday morning, October 21st, John dropped me off at the Eastern Cafe in the International District, where I would later meet up with Marissa Aroy and our tour host Maria Batayola. a few doors down from the Eastern Cafe was the Eastern Hotel, which has a small Carlos Bulosan exhibit. It’s no longer a hotel, but apartments. I was able to get in and take pictures when one of the residents was leaving the building.

The Alps Hotel is now an apartment building, but the sign remains as a historical marker for being one of the hotels where immigrants stayed when they first arrived in Seattle.

The Alps Hotel is now an apartment building, but the sign remains as a historical marker for being one of the hotels where immigrants stayed when they first arrived in Seattle.

The historic Eastern Hotel.

The historic Eastern Hotel.

The modest sign at the Eastern Hotel, with my reflection.

The modest sign at the Eastern Hotel, with my reflection.

I was excited to see that the Carlos Bulosan quote on the wall of the Eastern Hotel is the quote that opens my novel.

I was excited to see that the Carlos Bulosan quote on the wall of the Eastern Hotel is the quote that opens my novel.

More historic photos in the Carlos Bulosan Museum Exhibit at the Eastern Hotel.

More historic photos in the Carlos Bulosan Museum Exhibit at the Eastern Hotel.

Eliseo Silva's Carlos Bulosan mural at the Eastern Hotel, 1999.

Eliseo Silva’s Carlos Bulosan mural at the Eastern Hotel, 1999.

Marissa Aroy and I met up at the Luke Wing Museum of the Asian Pacific American Experience (719 S. King Street, 206.623.5124) in the International District, upon recommendation by and as guests of Maria Batalyola, with Pinoy Words Expressed Kultura Arts (PWEKA) and the Filipino American National Historical Society (FANHS) National Office, who were also some of our sponsors for the trip.

The Wing Luke Museum in the International District, Seattle.

The Wing Luke Museum in the International District, Seattle.

Looking in from the outside.

Looking in from the outside.

"A Mend: a Local Collection of Scraps from Local Seamstresses and Tailors" by Aram Han Sifuentes, who explores the politics of what she describes as "immigrant sweated labor" in the U.S. "Constructed from denim remnants gathered in recent years from garment workers in the Chicago area, the piece introduces the challenges many women working in such employment face today: low wages, language barriers which limit employment options, tedious hours, and unregulated working conditions without union or collective bargaining protections."

“A Mend: a Local Collection of Scraps from Local Seamstresses and Tailors” by Aram Han Sifuentes, who explores the politics of what she describes as “immigrant sweated labor” in the U.S. “Constructed from denim remnants gathered in recent years from garment workers in the Chicago area, the piece introduces the challenges many women working in such employment face today: low wages, language barriers which limit employment options, tedious hours, and unregulated working conditions without union or collective bargaining protections.”

A close-up: "Sifuentes, who is of Korean origin and the daughter of a seamstress, gathers stories along with these textile scraps, the remnants of blue jeans, a garment inextricably linked to American identity. Calling her final pieces 'quilts,' Sifuentes challenges expectations further. While quilts are typically made by sewing a layer o batting between a top and bottom layer, here Sifuentes uses gaps - perhaps a metaphor for untold stories - as a middle layer."

A close-up: “Sifuentes, who is of Korean origin and the daughter of a seamstress, gathers stories along with these textile scraps, the remnants of blue jeans, a garment inextricably linked to American identity. Calling her final pieces ‘quilts,’ Sifuentes challenges expectations further. While quilts are typically made by sewing a layer o batting between a top and bottom layer, here Sifuentes uses gaps – perhaps a metaphor for untold stories – as a middle layer.”

I’m grateful that such a museum exists. It’s a beautiful building and space, but more importantly it celebrates so many underrepresented and underappreciated ethnic groups who made lasting and continuing contributions to American history and culture. The Wing is “dedicated to immersing you in uniquely American stories of survival, success, conflict, compassion and hope. Through our guided tours and ongoing exhibitions, you can experience real life stories of the Asian Pacific American community.” An exhibit on Bruce Lee and a sobering and harrowing history of Cambodia’s “killing fields” and emigration from the country are currently being shown.

Letter Cloud by Susie Kozawa (b. 1949) and Erin Shie Palmer (b. 1957), 2008. Reproduced archival letters on paper and audio of letters being read: "here is this place of immigrant stories, the view of the sky recalls the expanse of ocean crossed to reach this new home in America, a crossing that must now be made by words o love and longing sent to those back home."

Letter Cloud by Susie Kozawa (b. 1949) and Erin Shie Palmer (b. 1957), 2008. Reproduced archival letters on paper and audio of letters being read: “here is this place of immigrant stories, the view of the sky recalls the expanse of ocean crossed to reach this new home in America, a crossing that must now be made by words o love and longing sent to those back home.”

Me amid "Letter Cloud": "The cloud cover of paper floats these words across tie and space in the form of letters - tegami - hand-written carriers of hope and dreams, stories of daily life and connection between family and friends. And here, amidst sounds of the open sky and sea, are soft voices speaking words that are carried in the letters home."

Me amid “Letter Cloud”: “The cloud cover of paper floats these words across tie and space in the form of letters – tegami – hand-written carriers of hope and dreams, stories of daily life and connection between family and friends. And here, amidst sounds of the open sky and sea, are soft voices speaking words that are carried in the letters home.”

One of the main exhibits honors Asian Pacific Islanders Americans who emigrated from their home countries in search of a better life.

One of the main exhibits honors Asian Pacific Islanders Americans who emigrated from their home countries in search of a better life.

Poster instructing local Japanese Americans of mandatory internment.

Poster instructing local Japanese Americans of mandatory internment.

A miniature bunkhouse in a local internment camp.

A miniature bunkhouse in a local internment camp.

One room is dedicated to Filipino Americans.

One room is dedicated to Filipino Americans.

A Filipino American collage and timeline.

A Filipino American collage and timeline.

In the afternoon, Maria gave us a mini tour of historic sites in the International District. Maria was instrumental in the creation of the Filipino American Historical kiosk, “Honoring Filipino Americans in Chinatown International District, 1911-2010,” at the corner of S. Weller Street and 6th Avenue South. The kiosk will be formally dedicated in early November.

Filipino American Historical kiosk.

Filipino American Historical kiosk.

The other side of the kiosk - a history lesson.

The other side of the kiosk – a history lesson.

Marissa's a pro with selfies.

Marissa’s a pro with selfies.

Later, we crossed the José Rizal Bridge, which “carries 12th Avenue South over South Dearborn Street and Interstate 90 in Seattle, connecting the International District to Beacon Hill.” One of the first permanent steel bridges in the City, the beautiful verdis green bridge was originally called the 12th Avenue South Bridge or the Dearborn Street Bridge before it was renamed in 1974 in honor of the Filipino patriot and national hero José Rizal. The bridge was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1982, however, under its original name. Dr. José Rizal Park, on the west side of Beacon Hill boasts a view of south downtown, Elliott Bay, Safeco Park – home of the Seattle Mariners MLB team – and the Seattle Seahawks’ CenturyLink Field. The 9.6-acre parcel of land was purchased by the Parks Department in 1971 and dedicated in 1979.

Bust of Jose Rizal.

Bust of Jose Rizal.

"East is West" by Val Laigo, 1981: "This tryptich is dedicated to all of Filipino persuasion the residents and denizens of Beacon Hill instead anyone who still enjoys and exercises a sense of humor and good will...." - Val Laigo.

“East is West” by Val Laigo, 1981: “This tryptich is dedicated to all of Filipino persuasion the residents and denizens of Beacon Hill instead anyone who still enjoys and exercises a sense of humor and good will….” – Val Laigo.

Maria also gave us a tour of the historic Panama Hotel, located in the International District. Designed by Japanese-American architect Sabro Ozasa and built in 1910, the Panama Hotel, a National Historic Landmark and National Treasure, housed a Japanese bath house, businesses, restaurants, and sleeping quarters for residents and visitors. Jan Johnson, who is the third owner of the hotel, restored the building to its condition before the Japanese in Seattle were evacuated. From what I understand, a number of Japanese American families stored their belongings in the basement of the Panama Hotel, with the hope of returning home, which many did not. Johnson closed off the basement that holds the belongings of the Japanese families to the public, and has installed a glass panel in the floorboards for visitors to view the artifacts from above. It’s quite moving.

The entrance of the historic Panama Hotel.

The entrance of the historic Panama Hotel.

A very cool retro look at the stairs from the entrance of the hotel.

A very cool retro look at the stairs from the entrance of the hotel.

The National Historic Landmark plaque.

The National Historic Landmark plaque.

The lower level of the Panama Hotel's cafe boasts historic black-and-white photos on the brick walls and comfortable tables for coffee and tea.

The lower level of the Panama Hotel’s cafe boasts historic black-and-white photos on the brick walls and comfortable tables for coffee and tea.

The window to the basement: the contents belonging to interned Japanese-American families have never been touched since they were left there during WWII. A chilling and sad sight.

The window to the basement: the contents belonging to interned Japanese-American families have never been touched since they were left there during WWII. A chilling and sad sight.

Black-and-white photos chronicling the times when Japanese American families thrived in Seattle before WWII.

Black-and-white photos chronicling the times when Japanese American families thrived in Seattle before WWII.

A close-up black-and-white photograph depicting life in Seattle in the Japanese-American community.

A close-up black-and-white photograph depicting life in Seattle in the Japanese-American community.

The inside of the storefront window showcasing artifacts.

The inside of the storefront window showcasing artifacts.

The inside of the storefront window showcasing artifacts.

The other exhibit in the storefront window of the Panama Hotel.

Farewell, Panama Hotel! Next time we will have to stay longer and have a pastry and cup of tea.

Farewell, Panama Hotel! Next time we will have to stay longer and have a pastry and cup of tea.

We made my first trip to the FANHS National Office (810 18th Avenue, #100, 206.322.0204), located within Lake Washington Girls Middle School. Although I saw Dorothy Cordova, Executive Director and Co-founder, with her late husband, of the Filipino American National Historical Society, at the 2016 FANHS Conference in New York City, this meeting represented my first introduction to “Auntie” Dorothy. I presented my novel to Auntie Dorothy as a gift to the FANHS Library.

Auntie Dorothy and me with my novel (photo courtesy of Maria Batayola).

Auntie Dorothy and me with my novel (photo courtesy of Maria Batayola).

Collage with a group picture of Joan May Cordova, Marissa, Auntie Dorothy, Maria, and me.

Collage with a group picture of Joan May Cordova, Marissa, Auntie Dorothy, Maria, and me.

Marissa and I enter the "Catacombs" (photo courtesy of Maria Batayola).

Marissa and I enter the “Catacombs” (photo courtesy of Maria Batayola).

Marissa and I were treated to a visit to the FANHS archives, also known as the “catacombs,” where specially built shelves house hundreds of boxes of files on Filipino Americans. While Marissa looked through her file, I doubted that I had a file on me. To my surprise, I found two files – under Patty Enrado and Patricia Enrado – with correspondences that I had written to FANHS in 2005-2006, among them requesting contact information for a project on the Filipino Manilamen, which I ended up abandoning. I also sent a link to my short story, “We Are Thinking of You,” which had won an award in 2002 from Serpentine e-zine, and a journal that had published one of my other short stories. I didn’t save the online short story as a pdf, which was a shame because at some point this year the site was taken down and the link broken, forever erasing the existence of the story as is (I had various revisions of the story but no final Word version that matched the printed version). I was ecstatic, therefore, to take pictures of the printed story, and now I’ll have to figure out a way to get it up on my author website.

A letter I wrote to FANHS nearly 17 years ago!

A letter I wrote to FANHS nearly 17 years ago!

Boxes and boxes of files in the catacombs.

Boxes and boxes of files in the catacombs.

Political posters of every Filipino American candidate for office in the U.S. on the walls.

Political posters of every Filipino American candidate for office in the U.S. on the walls.

Originally, Maria was going to treat the three of us to dinner at Kusina Filipina (3201 Beacon Avenue S., 206.322.9433), but the place closed just as we walked up. The silver lining, however, was choosing Bar del Corso (3057 Beacon Avenue S., 206.395.2069, www.bardelcorso.com), a pizzeria, restaurant on Beacon Hill, as our backup destination a block away. Maria let us know that the wife who owns the restaurant with her husband, Jeff Corso, who is chef and general manager, is Filipino. Auntie Dorothy pointed out that a framed Filipino family photograph hangs in a hallway in the restaurant. Gina Tolentino Corso, the marketing and creative manager, is a freelance graphic designer, a painter and illustrator, and “lover of good food.” Her artwork – big, bold, and colorful paintings – hangs on the walls of the restaurant. Maria had announced to our waiter Auntie Dorothy’s presence and her title. So it should not have come as a surprise that Gina came to our table and said, “You must be the table of Filipino American women.” She was a delight to meet. When told of my book, she expressed interest in reading it. And although I didn’t ask where she was originally from, she attended UC Davis. Ah, the Aggie connection again in the Pacific Northwest!

Fall in the International District, Seattle.

Fall in the International District, Seattle.

I have to talk about the food because it was phenomenal – simply and deceptively prepared but complex and flavorful in taste. We ordered two salads, one of which had bits of crunchy savory crackers. We also ordered Polpettine (house-made meatballs in tomato sauce), Vongole Alla Marinara (Manila clams, garlic, controne pepper, cherry tomatoes, white wine, extra virgin olive oil, and parsley), Grilled Octopus (with corona beans, lacinato kale, spicy ‘Nduja salame, and extra virgin olive oil), and a pizza – Funghi, with crimini mushrooms, house-made sausage, cherry tomatoes, pecorino, and fontina. Family-style serving enabled us to sample everything. We ate everything and were happily sated. The next time I’m in Seattle, I’m returning to Bar del Corso.

Friday evening, as part of Celebrating 2016 Filipino American History Month, Marissa screened her film and I read a short excerpt at the Centilia Cultural Center at Plaza Roberto Maestas (1660 S. Roberto Maestas Festival Street, Seattle). The center recently opened after restoration of an old school house and the building of affordable housing and community-use buildings. What a beautiful project El Centro de la Raza took on! El Centro de la Raza, “the Center for People of All Races,” is “a voice and a hub for the Latino community” as they “advocate on behalf of” its “people and work to achieve social justice.” The evening’s theme reflected the mission of the nonprofit. Maria and Estela Ortega, executive director of El Centro de la Raza, welcomed the audience. Estela related that she had worked in the fields in Texas and was active in the United Farm Workers union but never knew that the Filipino American farm workers initiated the Great Delano Grape Strike of 1965 and were instrumental in the formation of the UFW. One of the goals of the evening of reading and screening was to highlight Filipino-American contributions to the farm labor movement, strengthen ties among Filipino and Latino workers, and honor Larry Itliong’s Northwest labor leadership and contribution with the local IBU salmon cannery workers.

A panel discussion followed, which included Auntie Dorothy, Marissa, Ray Pascua, farmworker organizer and President of the Greater Yakima Valley Filipino American Community, and Rick Guirtiza, Vice President of the International Boatman’s Union Local, Maritime Division of ILWU. I met the University of Washington students who are members of the Filipino American Student Association (FASA) and a handful of audience members who were interested in my book. Maraming salamat to Alaskero Foundation, 4Culture, Seattle Office of Arts & Cultural Affairs, FANHS National and PWEKA, who sponsored the Friday evening reading.

(to be continued….)

 

 

Love, Portland and Stonington, Maine

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In the life of each of us there is a place remote and islanded, and given to endless regret or secret happiness.
– Sarah Orne Jewett, an American novelist and short story writer, best known for her local color works set in or near South Berwick, Maine, from The Country of the Pointed Firs and Other Stories

Outside of Scales Restaurant, 68 Commercial Street, Portland.

Outside of Scales Restaurant, 68 Commercial Street, Portland.

Happily and luckily, I’ve been coming to Maine for a week in the summer for the last 10 years. The company that I work for – HIMSS Media – was originally MedTech Publishing, which was co-founded by my good friend, Jack Beaudoin in 2003. He and his business partner, Neil Rouda, lived and still live in Maine, which is why the Summer Summits were based there. Every first week of August, the remote workers – I was a freelance writer until I became an FTE in 2010 – would descend upon the company headquarters in New Gloucester and have editorial and sales and marketing meetings. While the out-of-towners stayed at the beautiful Merrill Farmhouse on Pineland Farms, I stayed with Jack’s family. We had wonderful employee-bonding activities such as geocaching (the non-technology kind) and cheese and wine tasting on the Pineland grounds and having a lobster bake on Peak’s Island, a ferry ride away from Portland.

After a cross-country red-eye flight, nothing better than to have Sunday brunch with old coworker Eric Wickland at Sonny's Restaurant, 83 Exchange Street, Portland. Eggs, potatoes, and grilled cornbread.

After a cross-country red-eye flight, nothing better than to have Sunday brunch with old coworker Eric Wickland at Sonny’s Restaurant (83 Exchange Street, Portland). Eggs, potatoes, and grilled cornbread.

The whole company took the ferry to Peak's Island to enjoy the sunset, play deck games, and drink and eat.

The whole company took the ferry to Peak’s Island to enjoy the sunset, play deck games, and drink and eat.

In time, the company was renamed MedTech Media and then sold to minority owner HIMSS and later became HIMSS Media. Jack moved on, and the Summer Summits ceased in 2013. Thankfully, I still return to Maine, but as part of the Summer Sales Meetings, which are now held in July. Every time I return, I am reminded of my initial wonderment when my plane first descended into Portland and I saw these quaint cottages and summer mansions perched on the banks of the many islands off of Casco Bay. And how I fell in love with the land and the lifestyle. It gets me every time.

My sixth-floor room with a view at the Hyatt Place, overlooking Casco Bay.

My sixth-floor room with a view at the Hyatt Place, overlooking Casco Bay.

Sunday evening dinner with the sales team: What's for dinner at Scales Restaurant? Lobster, of course.

Sunday evening dinner with the sales team: What’s for dinner at Scales Restaurant? Lobster, of course.

I’m told that Portland boasts more restaurants per capita than any other city in the United States. I will take it. There are wonderful restaurants around every corner. And there are great little shops all clustered together, which makes for a great Sunday afternoon of wandering around and checking out local and state artisan goods. Love, Portland.

Looks like I found someone at HIMSS Media, my coworker Claretha, who also loves statement earrings, at Tica's on Commercial Street.

Looks like I found someone at HIMSS Media, my coworker Claretha, who also loves statement earrings, at Tica’s on Commercial Street.

Penthouse deck views from The Press Hotel at 119 Exchange Street. Formerly headquarters of The Press Herald newspaper, it's now a boutique hotel with a very distinct journalism aesthetic. No, the seagull did not photo bomb me; he just wouldn't get out of the way.

Penthouse deck views from The Press Hotel (119 Exchange Street). Formerly headquarters of The Press Herald newspaper, it’s now a boutique hotel with a very distinct journalist aesthetic. No, the seagull did not photo bomb me; he just wouldn’t get out of the way.

Last meal in Portland at Solo Italiano, 100 Commercial Street - very good pasta.

Last meal in Portland at Solo Italiano (100 Commercial Street) – very good pasta.

After a very packed Summer Sales Meeting week, I met up with Jack and family dog, Holly, and we set out for a three-hour drive northeast to their second home in Stonington, a quaint and beautiful town on a bridged island in Penobscot Bay. The road to Stonington, once we got off the highway, is not really winding as it is up and down, which didn’t sit well with my stomach. Let’s just say that Jack drove much more slowly and cautiously than he’d normally drive, and taking Dramamine on the return trip to Portland eliminated my motion sickness.

Jack and Fay's lovely home in Stonington, complete with a white-picket fence.

Jack and Fay’s lovely home in Stonington, complete with a white-picket fence.

The attic, which has been converted to Jack's writing room, which was a perfect place for me to "work" on a Friday.

The attic, which has been converted to Jack’s writing room and was a perfect place for me to “work” on a Friday.

Jack tells the story of how he and Fay would rent a house in Stonington for vacation early in their marriage. They fell in love with the town and a few years ago bought the home of the former town librarian, who is still alive at the young age of 104 years. They have been slowly and lovingly remodeling the house, which is a stone’s throw from the popular Friday farmer’s market, the downtown area, and the coast. Fay did a beautiful job with the landscaping – everything looks lush and healthy. She has a great eye and is an avid gardener.

Five minutes away to the Friday Farmer's Market, where local crafts and artisan goods, wildflower bouquets, and artisan foods are on display.

Five minutes away to the Friday Farmer’s Market, where local crafts and artisan goods, wildflower bouquets, and artisan foods are on display.

One of the things I really enjoyed about Stonington is that it is a destination for true rest and relaxation. Like my hometown and our visits with my cousin Janet and her husband, Tim, when I am there, I forget about yesterday and tomorrow. I am in the moment, and I take deep breaths and immerse myself in enjoy mode. So it was with Stonington. What I very much appreciated was staying up late Friday evening and Saturday afternoon talking about novels and writing with Jack. Talking shop, as he called it. I don’t have a writing group back home. Most people I trust are the ones with whom I spent two years in Syracuse, who know me and my writing, and who have my best interest at heart. But they are all dispersed. When I was at Syracuse, I was, really, just learning how to write, so I looked up to my more worldly, wiser classmates. But there were only a few writers whose class discussions about craft I listened to with rapt attention and took plenty of notes. Jack was one of them. I valued his commentary on my short stories because he cared and wanted you to do right by your stories and characters. And that’s because Jack is a wonderful writer whose prose is beautiful and precise and whose human insights are startling and real. He believes in the beauty, power, and integrity of story, of fiction. One who has such a writer for a mentor and a friend is twice blessed.

At any rate, here, to have that time talking about, say, structural issues with our current work and discussing how our favorite authors have handled plot or character was magical and so very instructional. I appreciated the immediacy of talking one on one versus communicating via email. So thank you for that, Jack. It made me want to read more and get back to my novel-in-progress.

The inviting view from the kitchen door.

The inviting view from the kitchen door.

I love wraparound porches for their welcoming you to sit and enjoy the view and talk about writing and novels.

I love wraparound porches for their natural ability to welcome you to sit and enjoy the garden and view beyond, and talk about writing and novels.

Just a little bit about the town of Stonington. The lobster and fishing industry support the economy of Stonington and the nearby town of Deer Isle. Many of the fishermen revert to being carpenters or contractors in the off-season. I’m told that these two towns lead Maine in pound and dollar value of lobster landings. The two towns’ waters support some 300 lobster boats during the season. The island is also known for its granite quarries, which go back to the late 1800s and are still being mined today. The granite from John F. Kennedy’s memorial at Arlington National Cemetery was supplied by Stonington’s quarry.

Along the bay is a statue honoring the men who work in the granite quarries.

Along the bay is a statue honoring the men who work in the granite quarries.

In many a front yard of a home in Stonington, you will find stacks of lobster traps and buoys, which mark the lobster fisherman's territory in the bay. Colorful that.

In many of the front yards of homes in Stonington, you will find stacks of lobster traps and colorful buoys, which mark the lobster fisherman’s territory in the bay.

More lobster? Yes, please!

More lobster for dinner on a Friday evening? Yes, please!

One never gets tired of lobster while in Maine.

One never gets tired of lobster while in Maine.

One of the things I loved about our walk to the downtown was the historic homes that bore the names of their original owners. Some were weathered, giving way to their age. Others were happily restored to a gleaming white, which blazed in the July sun, and stood out against the blue sky, blue bay, and green hills. There were B&Bs, a wine shop, art houses and galleries, little shops, and the historic Stonington Opera House. But there were no touristy shops – the shop that did sell t-shirts and the like was low-key and, I dare say, dignified.

On the walk from Jack and Fay's house to the waterfront, there is a wonderful art installation of a weathered window and two Adirondack chairs positioned in front of the window. Brilliant.

On the walk from Jack and Fay’s house to the waterfront, there is a wonderful art installation of a free-standing weathered window and two Adirondack chairs positioned in front of the window. Brilliant.

The other side of the window and two chairs, with a beautiful spacious white house in the background.

The other side of the window and two chairs, with a beautiful spacious white house in the background.

A view of the bay, which, when coming around the bend, takes your breath away.

A view of the bay, which, when coming around the bend, takes your breath away.

I think this is a B&B set back from the road. Beautiful, isn't it? Imagine the bay views from the bedrooms and front porch!

I think this is a B&B set back from the road. Beautiful, isn’t it? Imagine the bay views from the front bedrooms and porch!

Colorful flowers everywhere.

Colorful flowers everywhere.

A home with an art studio.

A home with an art studio.

A “Mini Village” is nestled beneath a pine tree downtown. The sign on the tree tells of its origins: “Stonington’s Mini Village set up in this little park area was the creation of Everett Knowlton (b. April 7, 1901, d. March 17, 1978) who began building the houses in 1947 as a hobby. He continued to build them at a rate of one a year and slowly grew his ‘perfect peaceful village’ portrayed in these old pictures and portrayed in its original entirety at the Knowlton homestead. After Everett’s death, the new owner of his home donated to the town the Mini Village where each year residents take home the little houses for the winter and bring them back in spring for people to enjoy.”

Part of the "Mini Village."

Part of the “Mini Village.”

On Saturday, we timed the low tide so we could walk to one of the islands. It was a beautiful day, if a tad bit warm. We traversed a woody and ferny path of tangled roots and spongy soil, breathing in every now and then the smell of aromatic pine, before reaching the sand bar that led us to the island. The cloud formations were spectacular, especially against the blue skies and waters. This was quintessential Maine. The water was cold, the island rocky, the pines plentiful. Breathtaking. I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.

A woody walk to the island.

A woody walk to the island.

Rock, water, pine, sky and clouds.

Rock, water, pine, sky and clouds.

Walking across the sand bar to the island.

Walking across the sand bar to the island.

Those clouds! They are mesmerizing.

Those clouds! They are mesmerizing.

Heaven.

Heaven.

Can't get enough of these views.

Can’t get enough of these views.

On the way back, a peek at the shoreline.

On the way back, a peek at the shoreline.

On my last night, Jack, Fay, and their daughter Genny treated me to dinner at Aragosta (27 Main Street, Stonginton), the farm-to-table restaurant overlooking Stonington Harbor whose chef, Devin Finigan, is Vermont born and raised. Aragosta is cozy inside – wide-plank wooden floors, sofa seating along the walls, white-washed wooden walls – with a stunning view and a walk-down expansive outdoor deck. Stonington lobster ravioli was calling my name. As I took in the views, savored every bite, and enjoyed relaxing dinner conversation, I kept thinking how David would have loved this restaurant, to say nothing of the views. Aragosta, by the way, is the Italian word for lobster. Of course.

Twilight on the bay, on the walk to Aragosta.

Twilight on the bay, on the walk to Aragosta.

Oysters and salad.

Oysters and salad.

My very delicious lobster ravioli.

My very delicious lobster ravioli.

Fay and me after dinner - happy and sated.

Fay and me after dinner – happy and sated.

Jack and his talented daughter Genny, actress, playwright, singer, musician, songwriter. We know where she got her artistic talent! Dad is a wonderful writer whose prose is beautiful and precise and human insights are startling and real.

Jack and his talented daughter Genny, actress, playwright, singer, musician, songwriter. We know where she got her artistic talent! Is that Jack’s author pose? Methinks it is!

Okay, twist my arm. I'll order dessert - a strawberry tart with strawberry ice cream.

Okay, twist my arm. I’ll order dessert – a strawberry tart with strawberry ice cream.

I will admit that photos are a poor substitute for being there. Photos can’t let you hear the lively rain at night or the early morning shower that gently wakes you up. They can’t let you breathe in the lavender in the garden and the pine all over the island. What they can do is make you say: This is where I want to go next. And come back to again and again. Thank you, Jack and Fay, for the beauty, the shop talk, the meals, the rest and relaxation I craved and received with open arms.

Last night on the waterfront in Stonington.

Last night on the waterfront in Stonington.

Ghostly ships on a gray foggy Sunday morning.

Ghostly ships moored in the bay on a gray foggy Sunday morning.

A little fog and rain, grassy hills, and a view of the bay.

A slightly different view: a little fog and rain, grassy hills, and the bay dotted with ships.

Crossing the bridge on our way out of Stonington.

Crossing the bridge on our way out of Stonington.

Early morning Sunday: a quiet pond after the rain. Goodbye, Stonington.

Early morning Sunday: a quiet pond after the rain. Goodbye, Stonington.

New York, New York: Whitney Museum, the High Line, and Empire State Building

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There is no place like it, no place with an atom of its glory, pride, and exultancy. It lays its hand upon a man’s bowels; he grows drunk with ecstasy; he grows young and full of glory, he feels that he can never die.
 – Walt Whitman, American poet, essayist, journalist, and humanist

We celebrated Father’s Day on our fifth day in New York. It was another great outing – except that David didn’t get the Father’s Day gift I was hoping to give him, but more on that later. In the morning, we headed to the Whitney Museum of American Art (99 Gansevoort Street, 212.570.3600), in the Lower Village and Meatpacking district sections of lower Manhattan. As we walked through Chelsea Market, we passed Budakkan (75 9th Avenue, 212.989.6699), a cavernous Asian fusion restaurant where David and I had a memorable dinner back in September 2008. It was one of the best meals I ever had. We went to the Budakkan in Philadelphia a few summers back, but it was not as good as the one in New York.

View from the Whitney Museum terrace (photo by David).

View from the Whitney Museum terrace, with the World Trade Center Tower in the background (photo by David).

View from the left of the Whitney Museum terrace. You can see the southern entrance of the High Line Park (photo by David).

View from the left of the Whitney Museum terrace. You can see the southern entrance of the High Line Park (photo by David).

You can see the Empire State Building to the right (photo by David).

You can see the Empire State Building to the right (photo by David).

The Hudson River is behind the museum (photo by David).

The Hudson River is behind the museum (photo by David).

The Whitney Museum: for modern art aficionados
The Whitney Museum, which was founded in 1931 by socialite, sculptor, and art collector Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, moved into its fourth home in May 2015, along the Hudson River. The new main building of glass and steel, designed by Renzo Piano, comprises nine stories and spans a total of 200,000 square feet for indoor galleries, outdoor exhibition spaces, theater, research areas, dining, and other spaces. It is an impressive piece of architecture, embracing industrial, sculptural, and contemporary aesthetics. The top floor boasts an outdoor terrace with amazing views of Lower Manhattan buildings before us and the South entrance of the High Line Park below us. The next two levels below feature outdoor galleries, and all three floors are connected by exterior stairways.

Outdoor sculpture.

Outdoor sculpture.

David's architectural shot.

David’s architectural shot, looking down at one of the terraces.

My interpretation of the terrace below.

My interpretation of the terrace below.

The museum’s collection focuses on 20th and 21st century American art, with more than 3,000 artists – mostly living, which is an emphasis – represented. More than 22,000 paintings, sculptures, photographs, drawings, prints, videos, films, and other artifacts compose the museum’s permanent collection. Back in 1907, recognizing that American artists with new and innovative concepts were finding it difficult to show and sell their artwork, Whitney became their advocate by purchasing their art and building a formidable collection. In 1914, she opened up the Whitney Studio in Greenwich Village to showcase these artists. When the Metropolitan Museum of Art declined Whitney’s offer to contribute more than 500 pieces of art from her personal collection and the newly opened Museum of Modern Art’s collection focused on European modernism, she decided to exhibit her art by founding a museum in 1930. The first museum, which was located in Greenwich Village, opened in 1931. The museum moved in 1954 to a building connected to the Museum of Modern Art on 53rd Street, but moved again to Madison Avenue on the Upper East Side in 1966 when it needed more space for its growing collection. Growth was again the reason for its move to its current location, which is such a lovely, open-feeling space.

Self-portrait by Edward Hopper (photo by David).

Self-portrait (oil on canvas), 1925-1930, by Edward Hopper (photo by David).

Summer Days (oil on canvas), 1936, by Georgia O'Keefe.

Summer Days (oil on canvas), 1936, by Georgia O’Keefe.

Metropolitan Life Insurance Building (gelatin silver print), 1955, from the series The Americans, by Robert Frank.

Metropolitan Life Insurance Building (gelatin silver print), 1955, from the series The Americans, by Robert Frank.

Nine Jackies (acrylic, oil, and screenprint on linen), 1964, by Andy Warhol.

Nine Jackies (acrylic, oil, and screenprint on linen), 1964, by Andy Warhol.

Cool wire art that is reflected against the wall (photo by David).

Cool wire art that is reflected against the wall (photo by David).

This enormous statue is made of wax that continuously burning (photo by David).

This enormous statue is made of wax that is continuously burning (photo by David).

While I’ll admit that some of the artwork didn’t resonate with me – I’m thinking of the videos of this one Chinese-American artist who put together vignettes of her mother’s life in an enclosure surrounded by objects from her childhood and home – I did appreciate the opportunity to be exposed to these types of avant-garde works. When the kids and I descended one flight of exterior stairs to the lower level and were confronted by a flat-screen television exhibiting (literally) one artist’s penis-filled video, they turned around and smirked at me. Isabella wanted to know how this was art. I just shrugged. It’s in the Whitney Museum, so it must be art!

Jacob, David, and Isabella with New York skyline.

Jacob, David, and Isabella with New York skyline.

Next stop: The High Line Park, below the Whitney Museum.

Next stop: The High Line Park, below the Whitney Museum.

High Line Park: revitalization at its best
As I mentioned earlier, the southern entrance to the High Line Park is right next to the Whitney Museum, so once we were finished with the museum, we ascended the steps to the linear park, which was a great revitalization project that began in 1999. In its heyday, the early 1930s, the train line was part of the West Side Improvement Project, running from 34th Street to Spring Street’s St. John’s Park Terminal. “Designed to go through the center of blocks, rather than over the avenue,” trains on this line carried goods to and from Manhattan’s largest industrial district, according to the park’s site. The interstate trucking industry all but displaced the trains by the 1980s. When a group of property owners banded together to get the train line demolished, Peter Obletz, a Chelsea resident, activist, and railroad enthusiast, went to court to preserve the line.

Along the walk you can see the old rails with vegetation happily filling in (photo by David).

Along the walk you can see the old rails with vegetation happily filling in (photo by David).

Interesting buildings all around. Here are three different styles side by side, with a block in black seemingly inserted into the brown building (photo by David).

Interesting buildings all around. Here are three different styles side by side, with a block in black seemingly interlocked into the brown building (photo by David).

And artwork rising up from the grasses.

And artwork rising up from the grasses.

More cool buildings (photo by David).

More cool buildings (photo by David).

In 1999, Joshua David and Robert Hammond, who lived in the High-Line neighborhood, founded Friends of the High Line, a nonprofit dedicated to preserving the High Line and converting it into a public open space. Design competitions took place, the transportation agency that owned the line donated it to the City in 2005, and groundbreaking began in 2006. The entire process took 15 years, with section 1 from Gansevoort Street to West 20th Street completed in 2009, section 2 from West 20th Street to West 30th Street completed in 2011, and the final section, which is the northernmost section of the park, to the Rail Yards, completed in September 2014.

All different styles of buildings along the High Line - some modern, some older (photo by David).

All different styles of buildings along the High Line – some modern, some older (photo by David).

Art on buildings in between buildings (photo by David).

Art on buildings in between buildings (photo by David).

Echinacea flowers abloom along the way.

Echinacea flowers abloom along the way.

Two twin block-long buildings of an older vintage (photo by David).

Two twin block-long buildings of an older vintage (photo by David).

Various activities are scheduled throughout the High Line, from dance parties to performances to star-gazing and arts events to horticulture tours. A covered section of the High Line features vendors peddling organic popsicle, gelato, and other tasty treats, as well as photographs, artisan goods, and High-Line swag. We walked almost to the end, getting off to make a direct beeline for our next destination of the Empire State Building. The temperatures were climbing and at some points we were walking in a line like bumper-to-bumper traffic, but we had our moments of just enjoying a walk through this elevated park and enjoying the fruits of preservationists’ labor.

While Jacob and I shopped, David played with his camera (photo by David).

While Jacob and I shopped, David played with his camera (photo by David).

More experimentation with the camera (photo by David).

More experimentation with the camera (photo by David).

Steel walkway with Jacob in the foreground and me in the background (photo by David).

Steel walkway with Jacob in the foreground and me in the background (photo by David).

Greenery everywhere.

Greenery everywhere.

I noticed when we were heading from our apartment to our friend Mason’s condo in the Queens along the Hudson River an abandoned elevated stretch of train tracks that ended abruptly. As this part of town, the Hudson, is being built up, I’m imagining another such park in the sky waiting in the wings.

Cool modern building (photo by David).

Cool modern building (photo by David).

Pedestrians beware!

Pedestrians beware!

Resting under the shade of trees.

Resting under the shade of trees.

Preservation at its best.

Railway and plants living harmoniously together.

Empire State Building: the center of Midtown Manhattan
When I think of the Empire State Building (350 5th Avenue between West 33rd and 34th streets), I am reminded of a story my father told me and my sisters when we were young. Every morning on his way to work, he used to walk by the Empire State Building as it was being built. My father was in New York around 1929, and construction began in March 1930. My father loved New York. He called it the City. When he and his cousins moved to Los Angeles in the 1950s, after WWII, he called Los Angeles the country, and when he moved to Terra Bella – between Bakersfield and Fresno in the Central Valley of California – he called it the camp. At the time of his storytelling, my initial reaction was, “Wow, Dad, you’re old!” Since then, however, I marvel at what he was witnessing – the building of this great building. Once construction began, the building rose 4 ½ stories each week. In 1931, the building, with its beautiful art-deco interior, opened, with President Herbert Hoover hitting a button in Washington, DC, that turned on the lights of the Empire State Building.

Restored art-deco interior of the Empire State Building (photo by David).

Restored art-deco interior of the Empire State Building (photo by David).

As far as the eye can see (photo by David).

As far as the eye can see (photo by David).

David singles out the Flatiron Building.

David singles out the Flatiron Building.

Close-up of the Chrysler Building (photo by David).

Close-up of the Chrysler Building (photo by David).

Thankfully, we encountered short lines and small crowds. Again, I think this is because it was mid-June and people hadn’t all gone on vacation yet. We ascended to the 86th Floor observatory. I’ll admit to being acrophobic, so I took photos with caution. The sky was clear and you could truly see forever. According to the guides, you can see five states on a clear day – New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, and Connecticut. The views were amazing, and the kids were in awe of all those buildings all around us. As we descended, David and I mentally crossed off going to the Empire State Building from our list of things to do in New York.

Hudson River in the background (photo by David).

I believe that is the East River in the background (photo by David).

Coming around with the view (photo by David).

Coming around with the view (photo by David).

Moving to the left (photo by David).

Moving to the left (photo by David).

Hudson Bay (photo by David).

I believe this is the Hudson River in the background (photo by David).

Inglorious ending to Father’s Day
The only blot on our day was planning our evening around what we thought would be a Golden State Warriors Finals victory and celebration. We bypassed the recommended Katz’s Deli (205 E. Houston, 212.254.2246) on our way home. We walked in, but nobody was in the mood for foot-tall sandwiches that just seemed too much of a good thing. Instead, we grabbed Subway sandwiches – slumming it – back to our apartment. Suffice it to say, the Warriors lost the championship that was theirs to win, and there went my Father’s Day present to David. Not that Isabella cared in the least. We tried to remember that we were still on vacation. By morning, at least for me, I woke up thinking about the day’s adventure before us.

Building close-ups down there.

Building close-ups down there, looking like building blocks.

More close-ups with the Chrysler Building peeking out.

More close-ups with the Chrysler Building peeking out.

The smaller skyscrapers!

The smaller skyscrapers!

Fox on a building on our way home (photo by David).

Fox on a building on our way home (photo by David).

New York, New York: Guggenheim Museum, Grand Central Terminal, & walking Broadway

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And New York is the most beautiful city in the world? It is not far from it. No urban night is like the night there…. Squares after squares of flame, set up and cut into the aether. Here is our poetry, for we have pulled down the stars to our will.
 – Ezra Pound, expatriate American poet and critic

On our fourth day in New York, we changed our itinerary when we found out that our friends Jack and Fay Beaudoin, who live in Maine, were in town for the premier of their daughter’s play. More on that later. So we opted to see the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum (1071 Fifth Avenue), on the Upper East Side neighborhood of Manhattan. The Guggenheim Museum, which was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, is home to a growing collection of Impressionist, Post-Impressionist, early Modern, and contemporary  as it rises to the top of its ceiling skylight – is meant to convey “the temple of the spirit.” When you walk into the atrium, you are immediately taken by the lightness, the sun through the skylight, and the spiraling whiteness that seems to lift you up as you begin your journey.

When you first walk in and look up....

When you first walk in and look up…. (photo by David).

More curves (photo by David).

More curves (photo by David).

Like strands of a modern necklace.

Like strands of a modern necklace.

The skylight ceiling (photo by David).

The skylight ceiling (photo by David).

Close-up of the skylight ceiling (photo by David).

Close-up of the skylight ceiling (photo by David).

Looking straight up at the triangular-shaped stairs.

Looking straight up at the triangular-shaped stairs.

Ascending the triangular-shaped stairs (photo by David).

Ascending the triangular-shaped stairs (photo by David).

All the way up, looking down (photo by David).

All the way up, looking down (photo by David).

Coming down, another view of the entrance with pool (photo by David).

Coming down, another view of the entrance with pool (photo by David).

The museum’s namesake belonged to a wealthy mining family and collected traditional works from the old masters going back to the 1890s. When he met artist Hilla von Rebay in 1926, she introduced him to European avant-garde art, he changed his aesthetic. When his collection outgrew his Plaza Hotel apartment, he established the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation in 1937 to “foster the appreciation for modern art.” We took the audio tour, and I have to admit that many of the interpretations struck me as pretentious. I’m not what you would consider a true art aficionado; I like what I see, which is the way our artist friend Gary Stutler told us many years ago we ought to view art. At any rate, I recognized many famous artists, including Constantin Brancusi, Marc Chagall, Vasily Kandinsky, and Piet Mondrian. At least I could appreciate them, thanks to my college art history class. At any rate, here are photos of interesting paintings and exhibits.

Red Cross Train Passing a Village (oil on canvas), 1915, by Gino Severini (photo by David).

Red Cross Train Passing a Village (oil on canvas), 1915, by Gino Severini (photo by David).

Painting with White Border (oil on canvas), 1913, Vasily Kandinsky.

Painting with White Border (oil on canvas), 1913, by Vasily Kandinsky.

Woman Ironing (oil on canvas), 1904, by Pablo Picasso.

Woman Ironing (oil on canvas), 1904, by Pablo Picasso.

Composition 8 (oil on canvas), 1914, by Piet Mondrian.

Composition 8 (oil on canvas), 1914, by Piet Mondrian.

Peasant with Hoe (oil on canvas), 1882, by Georges Seurat.

Peasant with Hoe (oil on canvas), 1882, by Georges Seurat. A favorite for obvious reasons.

Dancers with Green and Yellow (pastel and charcoal on several pieces of tracing paper, mounted to paperboard), 1903, by Edgar Degas.

Dancers with Green and Yellow (pastel and charcoal on several pieces of tracing paper, mounted to paperboard), 1903, by Edgar Degas.

And now for the more recent art installation pieces. Two exhibits struck me deep. Untitled (Ghardaïa) by Kader Attia, who was born in France but works in Algiers, Berlin, and Paris, was installed in 2009. According to the information on the piece, “Attia sculpted a model of the Algerian city of the title in couscous, a regional culinary staple. The fragile and ephemeral structure is accompanied by two prints portraying foundational Western modern architects Le Corbusier and Fernand Pouillon, and by a copy of a UNESCO certificate that officially designates the city of Ghardaïa a World Heritage Site. Attia’s work calls attention to the fact that both designers borrowed from and reworked the Mozabite architecture native to the city of Ghardaïa, and to the ancient Mzab region, without acknowledging their inspiration, itself derived from France’s 19th century colonization of Algeria and subsequent exploitation of its resources.” Wow, what a powerful statement that resonates in today’s dangerous and sad world.

Untitled (Ghardaia) (Couscous, two inkjet prints, and five photocopy prints), 2009, by Kader Attia.

Untitled (Ghardaia) (Couscous, two inkjet prints, and five photocopy prints), 2009, by Kader Attia.

Close-up of the buildings made of couscous.

Close-up of the buildings made of couscous.

The other exhibit that really caught my attention was Flying Carpets by Tunisian artist Nadia Kaabi-Linke. The following is background information on her inspiration for this stainless steel and rubber artwork: “Illegal street vendors – primarily of African, Arab, and South Asian origin – often congregate at Il Ponte del Sepolcro in Venice to sell counterfeit goods to tourists. To avoid unwanted encounters with authorities, they are often required to scoop up their wares in the rugs that they use for display and flee across the bridge. This journey to temporary safety is not only physical but also metaphorical insofar as it encapsulates both the whimsical orientalist fantasy of the flying carpet and the harsh realities experienced by undocumented immigrants who cross the Mediterranean in search of better lives. The proportions of Kaabi-Linke’s sculptural meditation on this scenario – a complex assembly of suspended grids – come directly from those of the vendors’ rugs.” After having read the backstory, I saw her installation – at a glance, just steel and rubber – transform before me and take on a deeper meaning that is, again, so relevant and heartbreaking in today’s world.

Flying Carpets (stainless steel and rubber), 2011, by Nadia Kaabi-Linke (photo by David).

Flying Carpets (stainless steel and rubber), 2011, by Nadia Kaabi-Linke. You can see the multiple shapes of rugs created by the hanging installation and reflected on the walls and polished wooden floor. The overlapping “rugs” gives it a claustrophobic feel (photo by David).

Another view of Flying Carpets (photo by David).

Another view of Flying Carpets (photo by David).

Different shapes and spaces occupied by Flying Carpets (photo by David).

Different shapes and spaces occupied by Flying Carpets (photo by David).

Close-up of Flying Carpets (photo by David).

Close-up of Flying Carpets (photo by David).

We decided against eating museum food and instead hopped on the subway to get to the Grand Central Terminal (the out-of-towners say Grand Central Station) (89 East 42nd Street) and take pictures of the famous station. The terminal was built in 1903 in the Beaux Arts architectural style and is made primarily of granite. According to a 2013 article in World Nuclear Association, because the building is made with so much granite it actually emits relatively high levels of radiation. Good thing we are only passing through! In 2013, 21.9 million visitors passed through the terminal, making it one of the world’s most visited tourist attractions. Grand Central Terminal covers 48 acres and has 44 platforms – more than any other railway station in the world. The other interesting fact about the terminal is that the Metropolitan Transportation Authority does not own it – private firm Midtown TDR Ventures.

Next stop....

Next stop…. (photo by David).

Grand Central Terminal was built in 1903 (photo by David).

Grand Central Terminal was built in 1903 (photo by David).

I believe the flag was raised in the terminal after 9/11 (photo by David).

The American flag was raised in the terminal a few days after 9/11 (photo by David).

The other side of the main concourse.

The other side of the main concourse.

Letter box detail (photo by David).

Letter box detail (photo by David).

Checking out the departures board (photo by David).

Checking out the departures board (photo by David).

Photo op at Grand Central Terminal.

The grandness of Grand Central Terminal.

Heading out, one can get lost in the many tunnels of the terminal (photo by David).

Heading out, one can get lost in the many tunnels of the terminal (photo by David).

We were also advised by a number of friends to eat at the famous Oyster Bar. Instead of sitting down at the bar, which resembled a 1950s luncheon counter, we opted to eat in the restaurant. The food was good, reminding us of Spenger’s Fresh Fish Grotto in Berkeley, which has a 1950s ambiance to its decor. Let’s just say that this was the most expensive meal we had in New York! But our seafood was fresh!

Just follow the signs.

Just follow the signs.

The very retro interior of the Oyster Bar. I kept waiting for the Godfather to walk in....

The very retro interior of the Oyster Bar. I kept waiting for the Godfather to walk in….

Pony up!

Pony up!

My big scallops.

My big scallops.

Jacob and Isabella each ordered their own plate of soft-shell crabs.

Jacob and Isabella each ordered their own plate of soft-shell crabs.

David orders some kind of fish.

David orders some kind of fish.

Still getting along on our vacation on day four.

Still getting along on our vacation on day four.

We coulda eaten at the counter!

We could have eaten at the counter!

After our late lunch, we decided to take a leisurely walk to where we were going to meet Jack and Fay. First, we headed to the New York Public Library (5th Avenue at 42nd Street), which is a grand building. Founded in 1895, the NYPL is the largest public library system in the country, comprising 88 neighborhood branches and four scholarly research centers. With 51 million holdings, including books, e-books, DVDs, and important research collections, NYPL serves more than 17 million patrons yearly, and millions via online access. Behind the library is Bryant Park, home to Project Runway’s runway finale. From there, we hiked to Times Square for a brief sprint, just so the kids could see where everyone gathers on New Year’s Eve. Time Square, which is located in Midtown Manhattan, begins at Broadway and Seventh Avenue and spans out from 42nd Street to 47th Street. We couldn’t get away fast enough. It was a hot day and there were too many people and cars in the area.

Walking up the steps of the majestic New York Public Library (photo by David).

Walking up the steps of the majestic New York Public Library, which was designed in the Beaux-Arts style (photo by David).

Either Patience or Fortitude, one half of the pair of famous marble lions, which was a part of the Beaux-Arts-style building when it was dedicated on May 23, 1911 (photo by David).

Sunning itself on a hot Saturday afternoon is either Patience or Fortitude, one half of the pair of famous marble lions, which were a part of the Library when it was dedicated on May 23, 1911 (photo by David).

Detail of the NYPL building (photo by David).

Detail of the NYPL building (photo by David).

Looking up once you reach the top of the stairs of the NYPL.

Looking up once you reach the top of the stairs of the NYPL.

Stairs leading to the upper floors of NYPL (photo by David).

Stairs leading to the upper floors of NYPL (photo by David).

An enterprising writer sets up shop in front of the NYPL. What a great idea!

An enterprising writer sets up shop in front of the NYPL. Meet the author, indeed! What a great idea!

David and the kids hemmed in by Times Square, people, and a sea of taxis behind them.

David and the kids hemmed in by Times Square, people, and a sea of taxis behind them.

We kept walking downtown on Broadway, taking note of how the neighborhood was changing from the glitz of Times Square to some gritty areas. At any rate, one of the points of destination was the Flatiron Building (174 5th Avenue), which David and I had seen in 2008 but did not have a picture of since we didn’t bring a camera on that trip. At the time it opened in 1902, the 22-floor, steel-framed triangular-shaped building was considered to be a groundbreaking skyscraper. We took a little respite at Madison Square Park (at the intersection of 5th Avenue, Broadway, and 23rd Street), a.k.a. a nap, before continuing on our walk.

The majestic Flatiron Building (photo by David).

The majestic Flatiron Building (photo by David).

We met up with Jack and Fay, daughters Camille and Genny, and Genny’s friend, for drinks at Narcissa Restaurant (25 Cooper Square). We had a great time, marveling at the fact that we could end up in New York City at the same time and being able to get together.

The Beaudoin and the Enrado-Rossi clans.

The Beaudoin and the Enrado-Rossi clans.

Afterwards, since we were already downtown or in  Lower Manhattan, we walked all the way back to Little Italy. I can assure you that we easily logged ten thousand or more steps that day. Our friend Sandy recommended The Egg Shop (151 Elizabeth Street, 646.666.0810) since it was in our neighborhood. Her mother, who had recently visited New York, had gone to and liked The Egg Shop. So we had a late dinner at this cute little café that serves – you guessed it – all kinds of dishes, especially creatively concocted sandwiches, made with organic and locally sourced eggs. It was a quiet way to end another packed day of walking and touring.

David’s El Guapo, slow-cooked pork shoulder, honeyed spaghetti squash, tomatillos and pumpkin seeds in achiote cola mole with egg white queso fresco, served with blue corn tortillas.

David’s El Guapo, slow-cooked pork shoulder, honeyed spaghetti squash, tomatillos and pumpkin seeds in achiote cola mole with egg white queso fresco, served with blue corn tortillas.

My tasty Bec Burger and fries comprised a beef burger, sunny-up egg, white cheddar, black forest bacon, tomato jam, fresh pickled jalapeno on a panini roll.

Jacob’s hearty BEC Burger and fries comprised a beef burger, sunny-up egg, white cheddar, black forest bacon, tomato jam, fresh pickled jalapeno on a panini roll.

My B.E.C., which is basically the same as Jacob's dish but instead of a beef burger, mine was just a broke yoke. And it was still very filling!

My Egg Shop B.E.C., which is basically the same as Jacob’s dish but instead of a beef burger, mine was just a broke yoke. And it was still very filling!

A nice homey feel to the Egg Shop.

A nice homey feel to the Egg Shop.