Hi all,

Back in NY. Walking for miles, everywhere. So much to see on the streets of NY.



Lennon, still in lights.


Very graceful skater seen at Battery Park; we took movies of him also.


Lots of activity at Ground Zero.

Saturday, dinner with poet John Yau, Eve Aschheim, and their daughter Cerise. John cooked an incredible tuna with glazed onions and lentils. Very yummy. Cerise played her recorder for us. Don played his iPod (Smule) for Cerise. Then they both played iPhone Bloom. John and Squeak Carnwath are working on a book together which Magnolia is publishing.

Sunday,  took our niece Kate out to dinner at En, the previously mentioned Japanese restaurant. Kate is working very hard in Queens, helping to set up a program to find jobs for immigrants, legal and otherwise. If anybody can do it, she can. She is super enthused about the job. Kate is not only gorgeous and altruistic, she is an amazing musician, as is her brother, her mother, and her attorney father, Era's brother, Leo.


Monday, went to PS1; we just missed an Art Book Fair, which we found out about too late - missed by one day. But we did see the swimming pool by Leandro Erlich.


The Swimming Pool at PS1.


Swimming, NY style.

Tuesday, met up with Gail Severn, Bruce Velick and his dog Olivia to do the Chelsea galleries (some of them). Unbelievable winds that day, our food was actually blowing off the table at lunch. Don saw a table blow off a 20-story building with a rooftop garden and come tumbling down into the middle of Broadway.


Olivia, too cute.


Olivia, Gail Severn and Bruce Velick at the Maya Lin show at Pace; Era lurking in background.


Made Don take this picture as she looks like a cross between 2 friends of ours, Ricky Jacobs and Jan Wurm. Look carefully at what she is holding in her hands, and then see below.


"Conduit," a copper gargoyle with urine verdigris patina by Janine Antoni at the Luhring Augustine Gallery, which has moved into Charles Cowles' old space. Every woman should have one.


Too much art? Never!


Good night, New York.

Love,

Era and Don

Hi everyone,

And thanks for all the responses. We love getting them.

A big part of the reason for our trip was to see William Wiley's retrospective at the Smithsonian Museum of Art, a huge honor for any artist, and to be part of the opening festivities. We decided with some trepidation to take one of the almost notorious Chinatown buses which commute regularly from Chinatown in NY to Chinatown in DC. We knew we didn't want to make another flight; way too many flights and way too much hassle for a fairly short trip. The choice was between the Greyhound (yuck), the train (maybe) or one of the Chinatown buses. We decided on a Chinatown bus as we're staying in Tribeca, close to Chinatown in NY, and our hotel in DC was close to Chinatown in DC. Also, it is super cheap, $35 RT, and we were also curious. Reviews are all over the place with people loving them to horror stories.



A rare sight; responding to a complaint from the Italian government and the City of Pisa, the Obama administration decided to straighten out the tilt to the Washington Monument.

The last time we took a bus for any length of time was up the Croatian coast in the middle of the night, on a narrow windy road during a thunderstorm. On that occasion a bus was the only option we had as Don was absolutely sick of driving in Croatia, I won't drive in scary foreign driving conditions, and no train exists on the coast. The buses run only in the middle of the night. I think we caught the bus after midnight. It was completely packed, except for a couple seats away from each other. Don ended up sitting next to a little special needs Croatian man, who absolutely reeked of sweat and booze. (Actually, Don gallantly saved me from having to sit next to this fellow.) The little guy was pretty entertaining, in an embarrassing sort of way, singing, shouting, calling out to Don "Americano" and "George Bush." We taught him to say, "George Bush, no", "Clinton, yes." All in all, it was an almost hellish experience, pitch black outside, rain pouring down, occasional thunder and lightning which lit up the narrow road and steep cliffs, the bus careening along at a much too fast rate of speed for the road. The passengers on the bus were good-natured and laughing, that is until the little guy threw up. Luckily, he had moved his seat away from Don by that time.

I am happy to report that the Chinatown buses we took to DC and back, Eastern Travel, were very clean, almost new, very comfortable seats, lots of leg room, had working internet connections and pleasant drivers. The little "bus depots" where you pick up are colorful little Chinatown dives with bossy women managers who shout at you in Cantonese, but other than that everything was normal, normal passengers, nobody threw up.


National Portrait Gallery, which is showing Wiley's exhibition. That looks like Tallulah biking past, but we happen to know she is back at Magnolia, holding down the fort and putting out fires, along with the rest of our brave and dedicated crew.

We decided to stay at the Mayflower in DC, which seemed super luxe, especially after our art loft stay in our Tribeca digs. DC is a strange city; I don't know if we could have abided it at all under our last administration. Police and secret service everywhere; we were mostly grateful for them - Please, keep our President safe!! We were walking down one of DC's wide boulevards when sirens sounded and half a dozen black limos - SUVs - came speeding down the street, their banks of dark windows were rolled down, filled to bursting with secret service or FBI, all with what appeared to be preternaturally long necks, swiveling around in alarmingly wide arcs, their heads poking out the windows, 2 or 3 to the side, scanning the streets, buildings and even the sky in all directions from behind their super dark sunglass lenses. They looked exactly like secret service clones from The Matrix to me, but reminded Don of the weasels from the animated Wind in the Willows. Wish we had taken some photos, but it happened so fast, and probably wouldn't have been allowed.


Wiley's talk was wonderful, wonderfully Wiley. He spoke a little, played (his guitar) a little and sang, spoke a little more, back to guitar and harmonica. He showed a group of slides and had to crouch his long, lanky frame down to read some of the titles. Everything he does and says is done and said with humor and warmth and a sharp wit which deals with the ludicrous events of our time. His show and work looked absolutely great. Many terrific pieces lent from a great many collectors, who Joann Mosley stressed were the easiest, most pleasant people to deal with of any exhibition she has ever put together. The pun ball machine (Wiley pin ball) he did with Electric Works looked wonderful and was a big hit; Magnolia's button box looked wonderful also in a more low key sort of way.


Wiley reading text from his artworks on stage.

As I was listening and then speaking to Wiley, I realized that he had a Buddha-like energy, similar to the Dalai Lama, not surprising as everybody loves Wiley. Then I was speaking to Denis Ochi, who has a gallery in Idaho and represents Wiley. I thought Wow, Denis has a Buddha energy, too. Then I noticed that Mary Webster, Wiley's wife, had this same energy, and many others. Now I think that this is probably some type of result of being blessed by the Dalai Lama. I am seeing Buddha energy in almost everybody; some people have a little, some have a lot. Hope it lasts.


Jim McGrath (the famed and influential high school teacher of Wiley, Robert Hudson & others), with Betty Taira and Wiley at a party thrown by Cissie Swig after Wiley's talk.

We were in DC for 2 and a half days and managed to see most of the Smithsonian Museums, albeit some very superficially. Some pretty impressive museums.



The Air & Space Museum, DC



Enjoying the Anish Kapoor sculpture at the Sackler, or was it the Freer? This highly polished S-Curve distorts both your reflection and your voice.

Back to NY for more fun and games.

Much love,

Era and Don

Hi all,

Almost impossible to get a direct flight out of Memphis to anywhere, but we did finally make it to Newark. Jeff Kelley had been texting us to meet him for dinner, so we dropped our bags at the time share loft/studio in Tribeca and grabbed a cab to Bottino's in Chelsea to meet Jeff and another Alan Kaprow scholar, Judith Rodenbeck, who teaches at Sarah Lawrence. Some of you might ask: Who is Allan Kaprow? He is an artist (recently deceased) who was instrumental in establishing the concept of performance art back in the fifties and sixties, conducting many happenings during that time. What is a happening? some of you may ask; you may be too young to read this email. We all knew that happenings were way cool back in the early sixties.


Anyway, these two scholars of Alan Kaprow are very lively dinner companions, their liveliness helped along, no doubt, by very good Italian food, great wine, and then innumerable glasses of port. It was a very warm NY evening and we were sitting close to an open terrace, where a blessedly cool breeze was gently fanning us. I heard the table behind us speaking about the Dalai Lama. I immediately stood up, went over to them, and introducing myself, told them I had just met the Dalai Lama two days ago. They were lovely people and, after inviting me to sit down at their table, they poured me a glass of wine (more alcohol?). He turned out to be Mario Frangoulis, a well-known singer (at least in Europe) of mostly opera and sort of romantic ballads; his agent, Demetra Anagrostopoulos and another staff, Mary. I watched him on YouTube, beautiful voice, where he's performing in a huge and packed ancient ampitheatre on Thessalonika, I believe. Impressive.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GfIDo6Bnjz4&feature=related

Mario was on his way to perform for the Dalai Lama and some other Nobel Peace Prize recipients at the Dalai Lama Center located in Vancouver. The DL has been going strong since his illness. Somebody else told me her sister was going to a conference on healing with him which was coming up soon.

We are staying in NY, in Tribeca, in an artist's loft which we have bought into for a year; we get 6 weeks out of the year. It is very light, high ceilings and roomy, as an artist's loft should be, however, the bathroom and sink are down a long hall, accessed by a locked door. Not the greatest for aging bladders, and my bladder was never the largest or the strongest in the first place.

Don has been working with Chuck Close, whose studio is within walking distance of the loft, very convenient. Recently I found myself in a surreal situation, sitting on the floor of Chuck's studio, hand-finishing a tapestry. This took over 2 hours; a job which could have been done in less than 2 minutes with our serger at Magnolia. About 15 feet away was Chuck Close painting on his latest canvas. So if I came out of my sewing reverie, I would look over and watch Chuck paint for a while.


The tapestry I was working on is the B&W Self-Portrait on the left wall.


Went to the Met, the Rubin, and a few galleries, including the Nancy Hoffman Gallery, where we saw Hung Liu's elegant show. Nancy had been excited to get Hung's new portfolio of prints with poem by Michael McClure. We were invited upstairs to see and discuss the portfolio. As we stood around, making chit chat with Nancy and her staff, we began to wonder when they would bring the portfolio out. Finally, we realized they were wondering the same thing about us; they thought we had brought the portfolio. They didn't have it. But Happy Result, it turned out the portfolio had been delivered only minutes before. It had gone to the gallery's old address first. Nancy loved it and is very excited to start showing it.


The painting to the right is of a couple young victims of the devastating earthquake China suffered, sitting amongst the ruins. We saw it at various stages of its progress; the result is fabulous.

Later we walked the Highline, what is left of an old elevated rail system, stretching along the West Side from 20th to 14th. Wish it were longer. And I am happy to report that Nancy Hoffman tells us that it will be extended. Literally, everyone told us we must walk this, and they were right. They've done a beautiful job of landscaping it, adding some beautifully appropriate art and design features. It was a little overcast that day. Wish we had better pictures.



One small, but welcome change in the world is that good Mexican food can be found these days outside of Mexico and California. We have eaten at several different restaurants which serve very good Mexican food, more like the kind of food you would find in an upscale restaurant in Mexico. Ate at Rosa Mexicana, at La Esquina with Bruce Velick, both in NY, and getting ahead of myself, but at Oyamel, in DC.


Making guacamole at La Rosa Mexicana.

One of our favorite NY dining experiences continues to be En, where they make fresh tofu every hour and a half.

Love to all,

Era and Don

Hi all,

Been having some internet problems in NY, so I've had to re-do this email about 3 times. Hope it works this time.

Our tour to Sun Studios was cancelled as we were invited to a luncheon ceremony in which the Dalai Lama was presented the International Freedom Award by the National Civil Rights Museum, aka The Martin Luther King, Jr. Museum in Memphis. The Dalai Lama spoke and was completely charming and loving. Everything he says is said with humor and a warm, good-natured chuckle. In one comment, which was dearly appreciated by me, and by Don also, he said that it was time that women took a more active role in the world. He said women are by nature more nurturing and more compassionate than men. (This is a generality, of course. Don't think of Sarah Palin, Condi Rice.) He said that many of our heroes in the past have been murderers and killers (I know many would agree with that; Tolstoy, for one). Then he asked, "Is it possible for a man to be a feminist?" When assured by some in the audience that it was possible, he said, "Then I am a feminist."

By the way, all these photos are the result of Don getting special permission to bring his camera in. No cameras were allowed at this event, although plenty of iPhone pics were snapped.
























The DL talked about going to the MLK Museum and how it made him feel 2 things: sadness that such a great man had been killed; what he might have accomplished if he had had a few more years. But also hope for what MLK stood for, the change he had created, and how so many are carrying on his wishes and dreams. A woman we met later at the concert said our friend Loten was sitting at her table. When His Holiness spoke about Martin Luther King, Jr., she heard a noise and saw that 2 big tears were rolling down Loten's face.

The DL spoke a little about his recent illness and surgery. He had had his gall bladder removed. He said it was in quite a bad condition and the surgery took quite a while. He said for those who wondered if he had any healing powers, this should be 100% conclusive proof that the Dalai Lama has no power to heal himself or others. He did say that he recovered very quickly and he thought that this had something to do with his positive attitude.


Went from the private luncheon to the public talk at a quite beautiful concert hall, The Cannon Center for the Performing Arts. The DL spoke again, but did not seem quite as "on." The sound system was not as good and he was harder to hear and understand. In fact, for the first 5 minutes or so, his microphone was not close enough to his mouth and the audience could barely hear him at all. The Memphis audience was extremely polite and sat waiting patiently without a complaint. After the mike was adjusted and everyone could hear him, they broke into loud and relieved applause. His Holiness was very amused that we had all been sitting patiently although barely hearing him. He took written questions from the audience after his talk, which he answered very well. When speaking about sad subjects, the death of a child's father, his country being invaded, his sadness was apparent and palpable, although he is by nature a very cheerful being.


As a teenager I went to a college prep boarding school for a while, The Athenian School, out near Mt. Diablo. A fellow student told me of the racism the Nat King Cole family experienced when they moved into her neighborhood in Beverly Hills. They got the cold shoulder from some, and some idiots actually burned a cross on their lawn. Things can seem pretty bleak at times, but these horrific events are not as commonplace as they once were. Memphis seems a fairly civilized place. A Memphisite told me that some of her acquaintances tell her that even though they still have these racist feelings, they don't want to feel that way, so I think that is a first step in the right direction. Certainly it was impressive that the city officials of Memphis, who seemed to be mostly black, welcomed the Dalai Lama to Memphis with open arms, despite pressure from the state of Tennessee, who are trying to wrap up some lucrative contracts with the Chinese government.

Lots of love,

Era and Don

Hi friends and family,

I know this is the only time you hear from us, but you've probably come to expect that by now.

Arrived in Memphis and went straight to Blues City Cafe on Beale Street to meet and party with the Missing Peace group here, mostly friends of Darlene Markovich who have helped put together this Memphis event with the Dalai Lama. The Missing Peace is branching into music and concerts. Ate some of the famous Memphis barbecue ribs (I'm afraid probably the only food they are famous for). However, they were quite good. Listened to a local band with a singer channeling Johnny Cash.


One of Darlene's friends, Krysia Swift, had put together a very packed schedule of events for our short stay in Memphis. Got a bright and early start the next morning (Tuesday, September 22) for Graceland, a place I never expected to see in this life. The surprise is that it is so un-grand. It looks like a 'fifties or 'sixties suburban house on a larger than average lot with larger and more than the usual number of chandeliers crowding the modest-sized rooms. There are some unexpected touches, olive green shag carpets and very heavy carved furniture from a tiki lounge in the rec room - Elvis didn't drink mai-tai's or any type of alcohol -- not his drug of choice, but he did love Hawaii; a rather creepy, but weirdly compelling white porcelain monkey in the 3-screen tv room. Also, perhaps part of the time warp, but the management had neglected to update to our current President of the USA and there was George W with his What, Me Worry? grin on the wall. The horror, but he kind of fit in.


It was a lot of fun to explore this place with a group of like-minded people, including Loten Namling, a Tibetan musician, who has lived in Switzerland for 20 years and has dreamed of coming to Memphis, the home of the blues. Loten plays and performs a Tibetan blues and has a beautifully Buddha-like photogenic face. We got a number of photos of Loten, meditating at Elvis's grave, posing in front of Elvis's hundreds of gold and platinum records, hamming it up in Graceland.



Later that day we met a woman who had grown up in Memphis. She said Elvis was so generous that it is unusual to meet a Memphisite who hadn't either personally benefitted from Elvis's generosity or hadn't known a relative or close friend who had. She is also a practicing Buddhist, but had a father who was a secret KKK member. She never found out about it - altho according to her she had a distraught and scary childhood - until he was actually on his death bed. It sounded so stereotypically Southern to me, with the deep, deep secrets and dark mysteries, though, of course, we have plenty of that in other parts of the country also.


Camera man with a great smile, taking pictures of all the tourists.


Just about Elvis'ed out.

We came back from Graceland, Elvis'ed out. Most of us couldn't complete all the attractions. We noticed a small group of excited people milling around the Peabody hotel lobby. The Dalai Lama was maybe going to be arriving and was maybe going to be passing thru the lobby. Soon, all traces of fatigue shed, we had our white silk scarves and were waiting with the rest of the growing crowd. As time got closer, more and more security and hotel personnel arrived. We wondered if we would even catch a glimpse of His Holiness.


No, this is not the Dalai Lama. This is Era with Khenpo Gawang Rinpoche who has a meditation center in Tennessee.

This is Don's description of what happened:

I, a skeptical sort, had a camera in one hand when the Dalai Lama (and security) worked their way along the well wishers and strolled to where Era and I were standing. As I might  expect, he passed me up and reaching out, tenderly and deliberately touched Era, her scarf (which she held reverently in her hands) and said a few words; then, rather surprisingly, he backtracked to me and reached out and held my hand; then looked me in the eye, said a short blessing (or something kindly) before moving on - I raised my camera to get a shot, but the security was so close by and so dense that a good photo was near impossible  - My attention went to the tingling in the hand that had been touched - because the small initial - almost unnoticeable tingle seemed to travel up my arm. Taken aback, I started paying attention to the tingle phenomena which went full strength to my chest before running up to my head and simultaneously  down my legs and out my feet. - Odd - I was wearing rubber soles.  Needless to say I had a dumb grin on - shock and awe.

Yes, the Dalai Lama actually touched and blessed us. I'm afraid I was so totally spaced out that I couldn't tell if my body was tingling or not. I wasn't anywhere near my body. Unfortunately, we were not in a state to take good photos. In fact, I didn't take any photos at all. This is the best one Don managed to snap that day. However, we have a lot more photos of the Dalai Lama in the next email.



That evening we all went to a special showing of Kundun on the big screen. Our friend Loten and a Tibetan flautist, Nawang Kechog performed also. I held Nawang's mike as there was no stand available. We had only seen Kundun on a small screen previously. The program was very beautiful and moving.

More later. Much love,

Era and Don