The Bean and the Méchanique Fantastique

Cup of the Day #85 

 by Gwyneth Leech

India Ink on white  printed cup

I was down in the East Village with Elisa Jimenez on a wander. Our destination was a very enjoyable show of women abstract expressionists at Dorian Gray Gallery on East 9th, including Joan Mitchell prints, Judy Pfaff drawings and some lovely paintings by my studio-mate Cecile Brunswick. 

After the gallery, Elisa and I were in The Bean at 49 1/2  1st Avenue enjoying a sumptuous and decadent fruit tart with coffee to celebrate mid-summer, recent projects and the beginning of new things. 

Fruit tarts at The Bean Café

Elisa had been at Buck House for the day of my hit and run Hyeprgraphia installation and was making some observations about the differences from the six week Garment District showing back in the Spring. "On 38th Street it was about working," she remarked, "the artist inconspicuously tucked away at the back of the window, dressed in gray, laboring in the cold, filling the window with more and more drawings every day. Very Garment District sweatshop."

Hypergrphia, June 9th, 2011

Drawing in the window at Buck House, view from the street

"Buck House felt entirely different, with you dressed in silk and lace in the very middle of the installation, looking like a cup drawing or one of the fine objet d'art in the shop. Your striped skirt matched the wall paper, even the same blue. Made me think Méchanique Fantastique or the nightingale in a gilded cage."

Hypergrphia, June 9th, 2011

Drawing in the window at Buck House, view from inside 

I love the way Elisa saw it. The skirt was actually a delightful coincidence. Who knew that this purchase made from Anthropologie months ago would match so well?  For my part, I was channeling the 1785 self portrait by Adélaïde Labille-Guiard (French, 1749–1803) which hangs at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I often pay a dollar and pop to see it.

Self Portrait by Adélaïde Labille-Guiard (French, 1749–1803)

Oil on canvas, 1785

Metropolitain Museum, New York City

There she is, painting at her easel in full court attire: voluminous gray silk dress, lace, fantastic hat,  students leaning over her shoulder. My finery in the window of Buck House bears no resemblance to the way I make art in the privacy of my studio, from whence I always emerge covered in paint and in complete disarray. But it was fascinating to paint that way for a day.

As for Elisa, mistress of the magical and the fantastique, I can't wait to see what she does next!

Marionette Dance, by Elisa Jimenez

Video by Gwyneth Leech

Waking Up to Christian Marclay's Clock: 5:00 AM - 8:00 AM

New Yorkers are always in a rush, on a schedule, trying to fit in too many things in a city where everything is too far apart. So how to explain the attraction here of Christian Marclay's the Clock, a video projection made up of time-marking moments from thousands of films and TV shows... with a running time of 24 hours!?

Cups of the Day #71

Wall of coffee cup drawings

by Gwyneth Leech 
10:00 AM in the studio

 

It played at Paul Cooper Gallery for five weeks. Two days before it closed an article appeared in the New York Times and suddenly the lines were hours long to get in. I decided I couldn't bear to spend more time in the line than I did watching the film, so, since I had left it to the last 24 hour screening, I went in the middle of the night. When I woke at 4:30AM last Saturday in the grip of my usual anxieties I thought, "what the heck, I'll go to Chelsea". I dressed in the dark, sneaked out of the apartment without waking the family and hopped a cab to 21st Street.

I joined a short line, made up of some people ending their night, others beginning their day. We talked about the movie and its meaning, swapped stories of why we had left it so late to come and generally built a bond of camaraderie in the cold night air. I enjoyed the chat and was almost sorry when 20 minutes later I was ushered inside to take the place of someone who had baled.

 Wall of Cups

by Gwyneth Leech

10:25 AM in the studio 

There, along with hundreds of other viewers, I found myself quickly drawn into a weird world of sleepers, waking dreamers, lovers, workers, families, all hermetically sealed inside their endless movie. The conventions of time compression are turned upside down as the banal, dramatic, suspenseful or funny time marking devices expand into a huge, seamless, kaleidoscopic almost-narrative. The whole is a clock marking real time. The video is a triumph of vision and sound editing, a hyper-tribute to the beauty of the movies, and a time collage of beloved actors aging, growing young and aging again.

In the three hour segment I watched, hundreds of screen people woke up to clocks and alarms of all descriptions (who knew there was so many ways to wake up - some funny, some amorous, some murderous?). Between 6:30 and 8:00 AM, at first intermittently, then with ever increasing frequency, breakfasts flickered across the screen - toast popping, bacon sizzling, coffee brewing, coffee pouring, coffee being drunk. Finally, I could stand it no more - I fled to find my own.

Outside, I was surprised that it was broad daylight, and was struck by the long vistas of the empty streets after so many close ups. Climbing the stairs to my apartment, I felt disoriented by the smell of bacon - my husband was making a movie breakfast, and greeted we with a kiss on the cheek. Life mirrors art mirrors life. The time was 8:15AM.

Wall of Cups 

by Gwyneth Leech

11:00 AM  in the studio

Snow on Snow on Snow in NYC

I can't remember a winter like this. It has just been snow on snow on snow since the end of December. They say global warming is at fault: more moisture in the Arctic from melting ice, greater snowfall on Siberia with colder air above changing the patterns of the Jet Stream which in turn is dumping snow more frequently in weird places. There is only one thing to do - buy sleds.

Cup of the Day #70

by Gwyneth Leech

India Ink and white-out

on red and white upcycled coffee cup

On a trip to Philadelphia in the post-Christmas blizzard we did that, picking up a couple of the plastic disk variety from a local hardware store. We used them for a day and then, although they cost just $7 each, I brought them back to New York City on the train. At the time it seemed annoying and absurd as I maneuvered them onto the overhead rack, but try buying a sled in New York City when you want one!

Days and days of snow have fully justified the effort and we have been up to Central Park numerous times to spin down the slopes. I noticed that other people are equipping themselves too and we see fewer impromptu sledders using cardboard boxes or trash bags.

Sledding in January

Central Park, NYC

The problem with sledding is the wipe-outs and that moment when suddenly you are wet and cold. My youngest suddenly stopped having fun on Monday and we had to exit the Park quickly looking for lunch.

Cafe Frida is just one block from the park on Columbus opposite the Museum of Natural History. We sat in the window, staving off the gray and white exterior with a welter of red walls, pink cushions and orange curtains. The food was fresh and brightly-colored and the coffee a real treat.
My daughter was delighted with the warmth, the colors and the food. Settling back against the cushions, she declared, "this is where I live!" And when it was time to gather up our sleds and leave we had to carry her, protesting, out the door.

A surprise snow day

Monday February 21, 2011
Central Park, NYC

Argo, Grom, AQ and Ferrara: Coffee at Columbus Circle

I have a friend who says she can remember every meal she ever ate. She is a foodie, but I was still struck by that. I usually can't even remember what I did yesterday. Now it turns out that I can remember almost every cup of tea or coffee I ever drank. And thinking about certain hot drinks can set off a whole chain of associations in my head, causing entire parts of my life to come into sharp focus. I think Marcel Proust wrote some sort of book about that effect.

Cup of the Day #65

by Gwyneth Leech

White-out and India ink on 

ochre printed paper coffee cup

Today, however, I am remembering a quest for a hot drink rather than the actual brew. I met up with my teen daughter on 57th Street and 7th Avenue one afternoon. She had a window between her orthodontist appointment and her piano lesson and she wanted a snack. We have been several times to Europan, the closest to were we stood, but it is awful.
"I know where we will go," I said, heading us towards Columbus Circle and the southwest corner of Central Park.

On the East side of Broadway just short of 58th Street, we were surprised to see that a whole string of brand new cafés had opened up! And what strange names : Argo, AQ Kafé, and Grom.
We went into each in turn, but Megan wasn't satisfied. Grom was all about ice cream, AQ was table service and very formal. Argo was promising, but their selection of teas was so large - fruit, floral, herbal and spice -  we didn't know where to start.


"Really, I know where we will go", I said again, and we pushed on right to the corner of the park.
This is actually just about my favorite place in the city - a kiosk outpost of Ferrara Café. The home bakery is on Mulberry and Mott in SoHo. The cannolli and strawberry tarts are delicious, the espresso excellent. They are open all year and you can comfortably sit in the sun at little tables under the trees on all but the coldest days.

Having told her all this, I was shocked to see in front of us the shuttered green kiosk. My heart missed a beat - could  Ferrara Café be out of business? A small hand-written note relieved my worst fears;
"Closed today for the celebration of Saint Michele Feast Day". Never heard of that holiday, but phew!

"Mom, I am hungry and thirsty and now I don't have much time. Where are we going to go?"
I began casting around: Wholefoods café under the Time Warner Center across the street? How about a nice whole wheat and seed cookie from the organic café at Equinox gym next door? A kebab from Mohammed food cart by the traffic light?

"No, no, no."

"Ok, I give up. Where do you want to go?"

"Starbucks," she said, pointing to one across Broadway on the corner of 60th Street.

And so, dear reader, we went.

Ferrara Cafeé in Central Park

Open every day!

Phtoto by John Arun, January 2011

The Skopeo Project

Buongiorno Espresso: Sunrise in Midtown

Wednesday was meant to be a Snow Day. The private schools got one, but in the end the public schools stayed open. Thus, the lines of children trudged along the slushy sidewalks, rather despondent dark figures against still-crisp snow banks as the garbage trucks fitted with plows made their way up 10th Avenue. 

Cup of the Day #60
Blizzard in Midtown by Gwyneth Leech

Gel pen and brush pen on Blue and white printed cup, 2011

It was rather lovely early on, each tree branch and building-ledge trimmed in white. I had been looking forward to a day sledding in Central Park. But you can't do that if you don't have a kid with you, can you?

I decided that the Not-a-Snow-Day was actually a reprieve and I headed early to the painting studio, so early that it was still time for breakfast. My husband and I stopped in Buongiorno Espresso Bar, a sweet little Italian coffee bar opened just a year ago. The owner, Liliana, is Greek but the house coffee beans are imported directly from a roaster in Italy and the crisp croissants are baked on the premises. We settled onto stools at the window counter, our very authentic Italian china cups bright in the morning sun streaming in from the West.

Greeting the morning sun in the West!?

Buongiorno Espresso Bar,  
New York City,  January 2011

Wait a minute - how is the sun streaming in from the West at 8:30AM?

Only because it is bouncing with laser-like intensity from a new glass tower over on 10th Avenue. Weird, but we could almost feel heat in it!

9:00 am saw me in the studio embarking on what turned into a five-hour session, painting high contrast abstractions from the snow-edged panorama outside my window.

Going home I detoured along 48th Street past the Clinton Community Garden. On the other side of the tall black fence the beds and shrubberies were shrouded in white, clean and still. At any time of the year it gives me a thrill to turn my key in the gate and walk in, stepping out of the city into a parallel place. I tried to catch that feeling in a video short I did a few years ago, shot during another January snowfall. The music of Martha Sullivan caught just the right mood and it was a pleasure to find it and watch it again today.

Snow Garden, video by Gwyneth Leech

Music by Martha Sullivan

4 minutes and 12 seconds, 2008

Lifting a Cup to the Tavern on the Green

Living in New York City one must not repine over the closing of a restaurant or shop, the changing of a landmark, the rising of a new building. This place is a work in progress, always in flux, never finished. Still, it was weird to find myself outside the Tavern on the Green in a snowy Central Park the other day and to realize that the Tavern is gone. Literally. I was standing on a snow-covered cement slab that was recently the floor of one of the many glasshouses which had been attached to the original 19th Century structure, now restored by the Parks Department.

Cup of the Day #59

by Gwyneth Leech

Whiteout pen  and 

white gel pen on grey cup

I confess that I never ate at the Tavern on the Green, a famed and latterly rather infamous (for labour relations) destination dining spot in the city. But it was always a favorite rest stop during days with my children in the nearby playgrounds. The Ladies Room was a confection of pink and white tile. An attendant held onto the soap bottle and dispensed scooshes onto small hands, then handed over a crisp white napkin. Her tip jar stood ostentatiously by the sink and we dared not leave without dropping in a dollar.

Before returning to the mundane world outside the Tavern doors, I would wander the labyrinthine mirrored hallways with the girls, admiring Tiffany glass ceiling lamps, framed paintings and stunning stained glass panels of entwined peacocks. We peeked into the frothy glass-house dining rooms filled with wedding and Barmitzah parties and tourists enjoying lunch beneath crystal chandeliers and frescoed ceilings. Outside the windows, fairy lights twinkled in the trees and the topiary all year long.

Tavern on the Green interior 

with frescoes by Richard Taddei, 1984

The non-glass walls of several of these dining rooms were covered with trompe l'oeil frescoes. My downstairs neighbor, Richard Taddei painted amazing murals on the these walls in the 1980s. Good thing he took gorgeous photos which can be seen by clicking here. The whole place was a rather rather frenzied fantasy of luxury and high living.

Back to the reality of this frozen January day, what remains is the undeniably-lovely, faux-Gothic, curved building which was a sheepfold in the park over a hundred years ago. Part of the interior is now transformed into an unlovely and generic visitors center and several units are empty, awaiting a summer food court. In the meantime, specialty food trucks are parked here. Today it is a Van Leeuwen espresso and ice-cream truck, usually found on 5th Avenue. The price of the single-source, pour-over Ethiopian specialty cup of coffee was certainly worthy of the old Tavern, but the ambience was just a bit different.

Snowman, Central Park, NYC

Photo by Gwyneth Leech

Eat/Art, Stumptown and the Porcelain of Daniel Levy

I was headed West on 29th Street from Broadway to shoot some photos of the many and varied food-related artworks in the exhibition Eat/Art at Atlantic Gallery, where I am showing three cup drawings.

Cup of the Day #53

Trio of Gingerbread Cups by Gwyneth Leech

Colored ink, sumi ink and white-out pen 

on paper coffee cups
in Eat/Art

I was hankering after a coffee but discovered that the blocks I was treading are a culinary desert, being instead the Midtown heart of bling; store after store is an Aladdin's cave of costume jewellery, watches, trinkets and ornamented baseball caps. On each door stern notices are taped:"Wholesale Only, "Tax ID Required", "No Retail". What is it about such admonitions that make me want to buy something?

Just past my gallery destination, a sandwich board annoucing a studio sale at 155 West 29th caught my eye, and I detoured up in a worn freight elevator to Daniel Levy's amazing porcelain-ware production studio on the third floor. He has been working in the neighborhood for many years and had a wealth of exquisite handmade objects for sale. I left with a black and white cup and the beginning of an idea about porcelain coffee cups in my head.

In Eat/Art at Atlantic Gallery, just a few doors away, the shopping opportunities are plentiful. All the artworks are 12" or less, very reasonably priced and can be taken home at purchase. In addition, 10% of each art sale during the show goes to Just Food, "a local nonprofit organization that connects farms to inner-city residents and helps them grow their own food and otherwise increase their access to fresh ingredients."

 Coffee filter artwork by Linda Stillman

Medium: used coffee filter, 

acrylic on panel with plastic cap

in Eat/Art

I still had coffee on my mind, so naturally my eye was drawn to an illusionistic wall mounted half cup by Chris Zeller, a jaunty coffee filter artwork by Linda Stillman, a charming green demi-tasse in oils by Whitney Brooks Abbot, and a light-hearted tea bag mobile by Christina Sun. To go with, there are artworks using toast and Froot Loops, paintings of muffins and pancakes, and several delightful cakes made from ceramics. You can see some of the pieces in a New York Times article here or on the gallery website here.
Better yet, head on down to see the show yourself. It is up through December 23rd, at 135 West 29th Street, Suite 601.

As I was leaving, I  asked Pamela Talese, organizer of group shows at the gallery how she survives working in such a caffeine wasteland. "Oh, you just turned the wrong way when you got off the train. Stumptown at 29th, is just a half block the other side of Broadway. It will more than meet your needs."
Indeed, at Stumptown the beautifully lit display cases of pastry, the juanty fedoras the staff wear and the impeccable fern pattern in my latte foam were works of art in their own right.
And the coffee, roasted in Red Hook, was excellent too.

Kokkino by Zekio Dawson

Mixed media

in Eat/Art

The Windows of Bergdorf's and Coffee at the Plaza

It is here with a vengeance. The night of Thanksgiving, even before December began, I saw my first flat-bed truck laden with cut Christmas trees rolling into the city. This Sunday afternoon, I gave into the moment and strolled up 5th Avenue with my seven year old daughter.

Cup of the Day #52

By Gwyneth Leech

Colored ink on white paper coffee cup

There were gold boxes in Cartier's, opening and shutting to reveal sapphires and pear-shaped diamonds against red velvet. At Tiffany's, it was a frosty tale of the Blue Bird, small snow-covered storybook scenes strewn with more diamond rings. At Van Cleef and Arpels the windows were the sets of charming paper cut-out theaters, rich with undersea treasures - corals and pearls and a sailing ship laden with jewels. 

But the show stopper was, as always, the windows of Bergdorf and Goodman at 5th and 58th. I can't even begin to describe the sheer lavishness of their Christmans windows, always a cornucopia of objet d'art and wild ideas, a spendidly dressed mannequin somewhere in the midst of each display. This year, clockwork creatures abounded and the tour de force was a window filled with icy treasures, including a huge octopus studded with mother-of pearl and crystals.

The windows are the work of a team of artists and artisans led by the brilliant David Hoey- and if your wallet is deep a coffee table book of years of these windows, published by Assouline, can be had for just $550. "If only real life were as swell as the windows of Bergdorf's," quips Bette Midler in the introduction.

Van Cleef and Arpels

Ruby ring in a clockwork oyster shell 

57th Street, NYC, December 2010

Sated with visual splendors, almost at Central Park, we entered the Plaza Hotel on a whim. It is still partly a hotel despite its recent reconfiguration as luxury condominiums and looks resplendent following renovation. We briefly considered tea in the Palm Court but opted instead to descend to the lower level and have a paper cup caffeine break by an incongruously located Koi pond. There is a food market which serves Kobricks coffee - quite excellent.

As a final bonus, we found Santa Claus in a grotto down there, seated on a satin sofa and available for an audience. Why he had a Plaza Hotel monogram on his fur-trimmed hat was hard to explain, but he was jovial and otherwise quite convincing.

"What do you want for Christmas, young lady?"

"Presents!" The prompt reply.

"In particular?"

"New pajamas. My pajamas are old and filled with holes."

Phew, Santa didn't so much as glance at me. Definitely time to leave 5th Avenue and take the subway home!

Bergdorf and Goodman holiday window

5th Avenue, NYC

December 2010

Near Misses: A True Musician's Tale

Cup of the day #50

Connections Cup, 2010

by Gwyneth Leech

India ink on white paper cup

Chris Smart was late for choir rehearsal on Saturday morning, arriving breathless and a little pale, clutching his travel coffee mug tightly in his hand. At the break we quizzed him; What on earth happened?

"Well, I am playing a concert tonight Uptown," he said, "and I was carrying a lot of stuff. I changed trains at Astoria Boulevard on the way here. One stop later I made a horrible discovery - I left my oboe and english horn on the subway platform!! That's $12,000 worth of instruments. And the english horn is borrowed."

"The subway door closed just as I realized. I had to wait another stop, then run six blocks back up Broadway with my bag over my shoulder and my tux over my arm, pushing people out of the way.
I hammered up the steps to the platform and ... there they both were, untouched, on the bench!

We gave a collective gasp of relief; New York City and no one one took the instruments.
"Yeah," said Juliana. "I have lost my wallet twice in the city and had it mailed back to me both times."
Come to think of it, I mailed back a wallet myself once, though I have never gotten any of my own lost wallets returned (three, but that was pickpockets).

"The dark brown instrument cases looked just like the wood of the bench. They kind of blended in, so I guess that's why. Though as I came up the platform, I could see people were looking at them, but from a distance."

Of course, we exclaimed, "if you see something say something!" Everyone is afraid of the unattended bag in the subway. Good thing you got there before the bomb squad. How would you play your concert with a pile of instrument shards?! Chris gave a rueful laugh and after stashing his instruments under his chair, headed off to Starbucks to refill his travel mug.

How to Collect Art: Starting Small

Anyone can be an art collector, as demonstrated by the following story:

Cup of the Day #48

by Gwyneth Leech 20210

White out pen and Sumi ink on brown paper cup

in Eat/Art at Atlantic Gallery November 30th to December 23rd

I was at the Container Sore in Chelsea the other day, dithering over how to display several of my coffee cup drawings which will debut in a group show,  Eat/Art at Atlantic Gallery opening on November 30th.
I was at the back, surreptitiously removing some display items from an attractive clear acrylic corner shelf with a rounded front, and trying out my cup drawings for effect. Lovely. Perfect!

I went in search of a customer service rep who could hunt up stock.
Paul was happy to oblige, and returning a few minutes later with three shelves, he asked me what I planned to be putting on the them, thinking of weights, screw, and wall types.
"These," I replied, and lined up six cup drawings on a display table.

"Nice!" he said, examining one closely. "Reminds me of my mother's friend in Queens who made a million bucks manufacturing paper coffee cups. You know, that Greek kind - We Are Happy To Serve You."
Was her friend, Leslie Buck the man who designed the Anthora cup and who passed away recently?
"I don't think so. I believe it was the guy who printed and distributed them. They were everywhere at one time. My mother used to tell me, you can make a living in a myriad ways; If you find out everything there is to know about a thing, the world will beat a path to your door."

I like the way she thinks.

Looking at my cups led Paul to another story. "I have been in New York City all my life - well since I was four. Back in the 1980's I bought a piece of matchbook art, covered in a graffiti design. Bought it from a graffiti artist in Washington Square. Tag name was SAMO. He turned up not long after in art galleries:  Jean Michel Basquiat.

 Jean-Michel Basquiat! The young art star who shot so brightly across the New York '80s scene and came to a tragic end at the age of 27. One of his paintings sold for over $14 million at Sotheby's in 2007. I would love to see that matchbook!

"I picked up a Keith Haring back then too, and some pieces by other graffiti guys. They were selling them on the street and I loved the art they were making. I still have those paintings."

As I headed to the cashier, I asked Paul if he has a secret vocation.
"Not really," he said. "I do like to talk to people, which I can do in this job."
"Oh," he added, "and I have a pretty great art collection."

Moral of the story: buy it because you love it.

Graffiti Art lives on

at 5Pointz

The ever evolving graffiti museum in Queens, NY

For people interested in collecting art, here are

some websites where you can find quality artists to follow:

New York Artists Circle Portfolio

The Drawing Center

Artists Space

White Columns

Don't hesitate to contact directly artists whose work you like and ask where they are exhibiting or how you can see their work in person! Artists will be happy to add you to their mailing lists for upcoming shows and open studio events.

Breakfast on the A Train

I was on my way downtown, bleary-eyed, to attend a monthly meeting of artists at breakfast time. I stopped on the way at Amy's Bread on 9th and picked up an oat scone studded with golden raisins and walnuts (amazing, always) and a Twinings English Breakfast tea in a white paper cup.

Cup of the Day #46

Networks, by Gwyneth Leech

Colored ink on white cup, 2010

At 8th Avenue and 42nd Street, I boarded the A train and got a seat.

Eating breakfast on the subway train always feels a little weird, but I was hungry and my scone was calling out to me. Surreptitiously, I opened my paper bag without crinkling and then maneuvered the tab on the cup lid without spilling or elbowing my neighbor. Having accomplished these difficult tasks, I looked around and took a quick survey:

3 starbucks drinkers,

2 deli coffee drinkers,

1 Amy's cup (me),

6 wearers of Ipods  with identical white cords and earpieces,

3 newspaper readers,

1 book reader,

1 young person desperately trying to finish writing an essay,

And 4 people asleep.

The woman opposite me with the heavy makeup and tired eyes had a laptop case at her feet. She was juggling an Ipod, the New York Times AND a Starbucks Vente coffee. 

Clearly for some people, sleeping on the way to work is not an option!

Sculptor Bernard Klevickas

Waiting for the subway 
with his morning brew, NYC

photo by Stanley Klevickas

Pushing the Limits: Coffee in Islip

I was out in Islip on Long Island three times this summer, going to and fro with paintings for a group show at the Islip Art Museum called All in the Family, curated by Jason Paradis. I am pleased to have had a set of six family portrait paintings included.

Cup of the Day #45

Life Should Be Delicious

Colored ink on white cup, 

by Gwyneth Leech 2010

The day of the artist's reception they had a hurricane out there and I tired of waiting for the rain to stop, so I got wet on the way back to the train station. With time to spare before the NYC bound departure, I went looking for a cup of coffee in the company of the artist Jane Schreibman who had photo works in the show and was also heading back to the city. Islip on a wet Sunday afternoon. Desperate. I actually bought a cup of coffee in a gas station. It was terrible, but a welcome hot drink on a damp afternoon, and in Jane's company the train ride back to the City seemed short.

I went out the third time to Islip in early September, once again by train, to pick up the paintings. It was a dry day this time and places were open. I stopped in at Bagels and More with time to kill before the return train and made do with ice tea. There, I fell into conversation with a senior citizen who recommended the coffee (decent drunk black), but they were serving in styrofoam cups so I wasn't tempted.

He talked about his mother and her taste in coffee: black, no sugar, something sweet on the side. I agree with that. Can't stand sugar in the brew, but love my cookie or scone to go with. My dad, on the other hand wanted it all - milk in his, two sugars and a Snickers bar. Now that's a sweet tooth.

A half an hour later, while waiting on the platform with my package of paintings, who should appear but Jane Schreibman carrying her wrapped artwork. We talked all the way back to the city.

Jane got in touch just the other day. As a result, we are going to be in a group show at the Atlantic Gallery in Chelsea called Eat/Art that opens November 30. I will be showing three cup drawings that fit the bill. Watch this space for a preview!

Floating Head

Papier Maché Idol, Mumbai Beach

Photo by Jane Schreibman

What is Your Luxury? A Healthy Dose of Art and Coffee

 
I have been getting some flack lately about the money I spend on fancy coffees. Well, it is only one a day. My nerves can't take more than that. OK, maybe throw in a deli cup of tea in the afternoon. I feel rich when I drink my brew out in the world, which I wrote about in Café Saltz. Today I walked to an appointment, 12 blocks each way - not spending $4.50 on public transportation - and bought a fancy Organic Rooibos Ambrosia cup of tea for $2.00 on the way back. See, I am actually saving money.

  Cup of the Day #37

by Gwyneth Leech, 2010

Sumi ink on white cup

Honestly, a girl has to have some luxury and what else can we afford in this crazy expensive city?

It's me and Holly Golightly drinking coffee from a paper cup in front of Tiffany's. I love the opening sequence from the Audrey Hepburn movie, by the way. And yes, I do walk up to to 57th Street and 5th Avenue to look at the windows of Tiffanys - and Bergdorf's - on a regular basis. Because if you love installation art those windows are where you can get a regular dose of the best.

So, the truth is I am a penny pincher and hate to spend. Which is why my experience down on the Lowers East Side at Alix Sloan Gallery the other day was so strange and unnerving: I almost bought a painting! I went for the opening of Mia Brownell's show Stomach Acid Dreams and fell in love with a small painting in the rear gallery called Still Life with Helix. Like the other paintings in the show, it is a luscious mix of bravura still life painting technique, abstraction and science. Oh, the shining fruit! What grabbed me was a delicate strand of DNA twisting through the central axis, made up of brilliantly painted grape stem.

Against all reason, I wanted that painting. And at under a $1000 I could conceivably buy it. All I would have to do is cancel our family's self-employed person's health insurance plan which drains well over a grand from our coffers each month, maybe go to one of those high deductible plans where you pay as you go and gamble that your health costs are less than $20,000 a year. Think of the art collection I could have. Think of the artwork I could have amassed by now, if it weren't for 10 years of NYC health insurance premiums.

Throwing caution to the wind, I actually went to the desk to tell them to put a red dot on it -

but it was already sold.

"Still Life with Helix" by Mia Bownell
2010
11" x 9"
oil on canvas

in  Stomach Acid Dreams

Tuba and a Latte To Go

OMG, my teen daughter has decided to take up the tuba! She is in a band class at Stuyvesant, her new high school, and trumpets being a dime a dozen, she and five boys have volunteered to be the tuba section.
"Do they teach you to play?" I ask, trying to imagine the first rehearsal.
Shrug of the shoulders.

Cup of the Day #36

Black and white cup by Gwyneth Leech, 2010

Sumi ink and white-out pen on white and brown cup

We are walking across midtown on Saturday to buy her a mouthpiece. 48th Street right off Broadway is still the home of instrument stores: Sam Ash, Manny's, Rudy's Music Stop, 48th St. Custom Guitars chief among them. But we turn into the first open door - New York Woodwind and Brass Music Corp. A smooth trumpet sound greets us; a client is trying out a new instrument in the cramped aisle. A man called Bill leans relaxed at the counter, ready to answer our questions to the backdrop of the trumpet riffs. He has everything we could possibly want in tuba mouthpieces. I ruefully hand over $43 and Megan drops the hefty piece of metal into her purse.

While looking into the glass cases, flutes catch my eye, shining silver against the blue velvet linings of their black boxes. I used to play the flute, a lot - first there were years of lessons, then in marching bands with my dad (he on trombone), in community orchestras around Philadelphia, in the pit for shows at the University of Pennsylvania, even in Edinburgh community orchestras when I first moved to Scotland to study art.

Then I gave it up for singing and painting. But the instrument is still under my bed at home, pads and joints leaking after years of inattention. On an impulse I decide to go home and get it and bring it back for an overhaul. I am going to play again!

When I return to the store the trumpeter is gone, but behind the counter Bill is noodling sweetly on the sax. He pauses long enough to take my flute and give me a repair ticket.

I am feeling a little overcome by my two walks across Midtown and decide I need a latte to restore me. But where to go between here and home for an interesting cuppa?
47th and Broadway - Starbucks. No thanks
47th and 8th - Starbucks. Nope
49th and 8th - Starbucks, x two. No thanks, neither
47th and 9th - Starbucks. No!
OK, this is ridiculous.

Finally I detour to Nook on 9th and 50th. It is really a sit-down cafe, brunch underway. But they are sympathetic to my need. Phoenix coffee, latte foam just right. I take out, go sit in the Clinton Community Garden on 48th and listen to the fluting of birds while sipping my coffee and planning my instrumental come-back.

So, are there any duets out there for flute and tuba?

the Art of Procrastnation: Caffeine on the Couch

The girls are finally back at school. The oldest took herself early by subway. When the door shut on my husband and younger daughter at 8AM, I grabbed my tea and sank down on the couch for the best hour of the day. Silence descends and I come to myself. First day of my Fall art making season!

Cup of the Day #33

Ebullient Cup by Gwyneth Leech, 2010

Colored ink and white-out pen on blue cup

For days, in free scraps of time, I have been cleaning out filing cabinet drawers, sorting through piles of papers and mail accumulated over the Spring and Summer, shredding, updating my e-mail address book, scrawling ideas and plans on the back of envelopes and looking longingly at my art materials and piles of blank cups. Now a whole day stretches in front of me. I am happy. I am excited.

Actually, I am terrified.

How will I get back in the groove? 

I start with a quick review of my current read: Twyla Tharp, the Creative Habit. (Simon and Schuster, 2003). I am only a few chapters in but this book speaks to me. I have read a lot of these sorts of books: the Artist's Way, Art and Fear, I Rather Be in the Studio. They all have something to offer the artist stumbling through a morass of life obligations that seem to keep us from our work. Why is it so hard to put art-making first?

Twyla is fierce and indomitable. I am absorbed in her first section on preparing to prepare, about the rites and rituals we put in place to get ourselves in front of our work habitually. She starts her days by working out from 6-8 AM. Her ritual is the getting into the cab to go to the gym. Too hard for me! I keep reading. Page 17, she describes a California author who can't write indoors, so his ritual is the carrying of a mug of coffee to an open porch where he works every day. I am so on board with that one! Once I am down the street and buying that cup of coffee in a paper cup, I know my feet will take me straight to the studio and the rest will happen.

Now all I have to do is get off this couch...

Trash Talk

Cup of the Day #29

by Gwyneth Leech, 2010

Green India ink on white Cup

The High Line Park, that extraordinary oasis atop an old elevated rail line in Chelesea, is looking lush and gorgeous right now. The plants are acclimatizing well since the park opened a year ago and it feels more and more like the urban nature preserve of many imaginations, albeit with comfortable places to sit, amazing lighting at night and spotless, litter-free walkways.

There are also lots of trash cans - not found on the old High Line of course - and giving into my trash picking artist instincts I peeked into many during my walk there the other day, doing a quick survey of the contents around noon on a weekday. Far and away, there were more cardboard coffee cups than anything else: Joe's Coffee, Ninth Street Coffee, 'Wichcraft, Starbucks, 7-11, anonymous deli cups and more.  'Wichcraft sometimes has a coffee cart up here, but not today. These are all carry in, and leave behind.

The High Line Park on a June morning, 2010 

 

Is it a New York City thing or is it everywhere, this walking with a coffee cup? Time was, everyone had a cigarette in mouth. I looked around - no cigarettes, but almost everyone had a cup in hand. Someone told me recently, "I love my coffee in a cardboard cup. It means I am out somewhere, doing something, on the move." It has an irresistible appeal, but doesn't it add up to an awful lot of cups? A few days later, my friend Christian sent me a photo he took during the inauguration in DC last year. Ah yes, a lot of coffee cups.

Back on the High Line, I have to admit, I couldn't resist picking out two empties: a Joe's Coffee cup in tender pale blue, and a Ninth Street Coffee cup, all-over black with a crisp white silhouette of a cup on the side. They went into my bag to be drawn on later. It's a slippery slope, this trash picking, but I took the chance.

 

Guest photo

Discarded coffee cups

Inauguration, DC, 2009

by Christian Smythe