Upon seeing The Twenty-Seventh Man at The Public

“Hm, that sounds like my kind of play,” I thought* immediately after reading a flattering review of Nathan Englander’s The Twenty-Seventh Man at The Public Theater. I think I may have even said this out loud to my roommates … or, at least, to the room. And I knew then that I would go see it, considering that I’m in a show-seeing mode (and that I could possibly get a ticket for relatively cheap.)

A Two-hour Tour: the Steinway Factory

Ah, Queens ...

Coming across a blurb in magazine, I remembered that ever since I moved to the New York area I have wanted to visit the Steinway & Sons piano factory. An odd aspiration, I know, yet ever since seeing a television program on the inner-workings of the factory, I thought it would be a cool place to see in person. Actually, this interest in Steinway’s originates from the summer I worked the William Kappell International Piano Competition back in 2007 at the University of Maryland. For two-weeks, as a member of the student stage crew of the Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center, I worked rehearsals, recitals (by the likes of Philip Glass and Ahmad Jamal), and concerts--even the final night of completion. Throughout, we were immersed in piano music and inundated with pianos—including those from Kawai, Yamaha, and of course, Steinway. We weren’t piano-movers (c’mon those guys are huge) but on a daily basis we would run the pianos in and out of concert halls and recital spaces throughout the facility. And, since each participant selected a different piano to use for the competition, we would even do grand piano swaps in front of the audience—when smooth transitions are a must. So, while not being a musician I don’t look at a Steinway piano as a top-of-the-line instrument from which to produce remarkable sounds, I instead view it as an immense yet delicate machine—the production of which must be a great story.

Seen and Heard in New York: a Weekly Round-Up

While I may not be terribly productive outside my working hours, I do frequently use this time to enjoy the greatest hub of art, culture, and entertainment (and cuisine, finance, innovation, design, etc.) that is New York. (However, you will rarely see a silent movie with organ accompaniment there—Jersey City has dibs on that.) In the past week or so, I have been incredibly lucky to have watched a college basketball game, listened to a concert, and see two (or four, rather) plays. Frankly, I’m as astonished as you, dear reader, that I could fit this all within my week (and budget). But the cost of living here includes access to such opportunities. And if you don’t take advantage of this proximity, then you might as well live somewhere else--you know, somewhere cheaper and less exciting, like Philly.

"this mighty scourge" ... 150 years later

Today is not only Rosh Hashanah (and beginning of the year 5773), but also the 150th anniversary of the American Civil War's Battle of Antietam. While growing up in central Pennsylvania, I became a child Civil War-buff though visits to Gettysburg battlefield, reading Michael Shaara's The Killer Angels, and repeatedly watching the Ken Burns' The Civil War documentary as well as the films Glory and Gettysburg. My friends and I would plan and enact ongoing battles at recess; for Halloween I dressed up as a soldier three times; and I even had birthday "parties" at both Gettysburg and Antietam battlefields. Needless to say, I was a strange kid. So strange that this fascination even continued into college. Combining creative and research elements, I developed a project on Civil War battlefields using my own photography and historical accounts of those battles from the soldiers themselves. It turned out well, and you can check it out here:
https://acrobat.com/#d=Va6UaB8AhJ3GhL6o*gYnPw

Later I wrote a thesis on the experience of the war in southern Pennsylvania, featuring the first U.S. draft, local politics, and two invasions by Confederate forces. It turned out less-well, and I will spare you from this academic travesty. After that experience, I essentially purged the Civil War from my interests. It may yet again play a small role in future projects, but in the last four years I have only read one book on this subject. (However, it was a very good one that combined social and military history while attempting convey to a modern reader the unprecedented scale of death and destruction the American people had enacted upon themselves, and how society dealt with it. If you're going to read a book on the Civil War not called The Battle Cry of Freedom, I would recommend This Republic of Suffering.) And since it is the sesquicentennial of this war, the New York Times has been doing a weekly series on its events, characters, and lingering impact. Today's entry is on Antietam, of course.

I'm not entirely sure why I felt compelled to write this post. Probably because I haven't posted anything in over a month; not that nothing was going on then ... but blog-writing just didn't fit. Maybe it will from now on.  

We Dodged a Depression, But Not the Dustbowl

After a vacation, I caught up with two of my primary news sources, the New York Times and The Economist. In the past weeks both have featured articles on a growing issue in America of which I was totally unaware--the severity, extent, and ramifications of the 2012 drought. Initially, I came across this article in The Economist, with its alarming graphic and data. Concerning reports released from the National Weather Service (NWS), United States Drought Reporter, and National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) also prompted extended coverage in the Times. After the initial piece on July 19, further articles addressed the extent to which the drought could affect American food prices, infrastructure, and energy grid. The paper also ran an op-ed piece by Michael E. Webber, an assistant professor of mechanical engineering and the associate director of the Center for International Energy and Environmental Policy at the University of Texas, Austin. While the inclusion of the above links suggests that I recommend you read them (since they also have statistics and maps and photos and stuff like that), I'll also try to provide a brief synopsis of the situation (which will help me grasp the issue better as well.)

How about fish tacos why not?

Since I can't get to Baja, SoCal, or even Rockaway Beach regularly ... and seeing as we had some fresh radishes in the garden ... and I just so happened to be strolling by the Mexican grocery shops of Sunset Park ... I felt it time to try my hand at fish tacos with a side of fried cactus.

After a couple hours of sweating and swearing in the kitchen, or what other people call "cooking," I had produced a blog-worthy meal. Here's the decently-photographed evidence:

nopales

slices

fried cactus

fish fry

dos tacos

For those interested in cooking up something similar, here are some sources I consulted:

~ Fried vegetable batter: http://www.dvo.com/recipe_pages/deepfried/Batter_Fried_Zucchini_Sticks_full.html
~ Fried cactus: http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/Fried-Cactus-Strips
~ Fish tacos: http://thepauperedchef.com/2006/06/baja_fish_tacos.html
http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2009/02/easy-pan-fried-fish-tacos-with-white-sauce-recipe.html

(I used frozen mahi mahi pieces, and dressed the whole thing with a simple guacamole, yogurt/mayo white sauce, and raw radishes and cilantro.)

Southern Exposure

#5 Brooks Robinson, Orioles legend

Caught the Bolt for a buck (or more)
For a 3-day weekend in Baltimore:
To see old friends and new sights,
Indulge in Southern charm and culinary delights,
And in my (old) backyard ... explore.

North Avenue guides me from interstate to inner city:
Metropolitan sprawl to blocks both gentrified and gritty.
New York, I love you, but you're bringing me down.
So let's take a chance on this old, yet vibrant town--
Two centuries since the Bombardment, and never more pretty.

Past Downtown and Inner Harbor we drive
To the hot spots in Fell's Point--both luxury and dive.
How 'bout lunch and a soccer match, if we make it quick?
Bertha's mussels and an afternoon pint do the trick.
Spain routs France, and for another round La Roja survive.

To Vaccaro's we amble for an Italian snack:
Pastries, cakes, and gelato--there's no lack.
We select some cannoli filled beyond capacity.
Where else would you find such vintage generosity?
Won't see Berger's here--just pignoli by the stack.

How about a movie to kill some time and avoid the heat?
To the Charles Theater we scurry and grab a seat
Just in time for the new Wes Anderson flick:
Moonrise Kingdom--quirky & sweet, clever & quick,
With characters and actors that can't be beat.

A brief drive fulfills the day's final mission:
A late, but fresh dinner at Woodberry Kitchen.
An old foundry houses this farm-to-table joint,
Where course after course fails to disappoint.
A delicious meal here might become a tradition.

On a bright summer Sunday fit for a ballgame,
More friends arrive, and a shady corner of Camden Yards we claim.
But early on, the Nationals take the lead.
Runners left on base? It seems the Os just won't succeed.
Except for a two-run homer by Wieters--and his arm's deadly aim.

A better finish couldn't have been written:
A sold-out stadium and an Orioles win;
Relaxing with friends, a Natty Boh in hand.
On to DC I travel, leaving behind Maryland
For some Ledo's and that new(s) show by Aaron Sorkin.

We swing by College Park, home to my alma mater,
For a bagel brunch, as the day grows hotter.
The sight of campus evokes memories both good and bad,
But I hold no love for Route 1, which never looked so sad;
Vertigo Books, 3 years gone--caught in a cultural slaughter.

Though the Mall is a construction zone,
There are still free museums, obscure and well-known:
At the Hirschorn we interact with modern art--
Colorful installations where the viewer must take part.
While Natural History exhibits colonial skeletons & bones.

We end our afternoon with increased knowledge,
Of the kind they don't teach you in college:
That art can be both pretentious and fun,
That 85% of Jamestown died in the Chesapeake sun,
And that a Rita's has been hiding under a Chinatown ledge.

But evening arrives and I must depart,
Though I do so with a heavy heart.
This trip of good times with good friends,
Is all too brief and too quickly ends.
One adventure over, I look for the next one to start.