Cat Cat Village, Sa Pa | Vietnam

There’s no nice way to say it . . . Cat Cat Village is fake. It’s an entirely modern tourist trap built as a combo souvenir shop/Instagram set. Can you see ethnic minority people there? Sure. Can you buy genuine handicrafts from them? Yes, assuming you know what to look for. 

90% of the place, however, is Vietnamese shopkeepers selling junk souvenirs and costumes to Vietnamese tourists, who spend the day taking photos for social media. The costumes are about as close to what local minority women wear as Disney’s Princess Jasmine outfit is to traditional Kurdish costume.

No one lives in the “H’mong family houses,” they just sell batik outside. To add insult to injury, Vietnamese pop music blasts through loudspeakers, and every couple hours there’s a ridiculous dance show supposedly featuring ethnic minority performers doing traditional dances in traditional costume (nope, definitely not, and barely).

The village is more or less a convenience. If you are:

• too old or infirm to hike to a real village, or

• you want to pick up Western style clothes “inspired by” the craft processes of the region (rather than wear things made by and for H’mong and Dao), or

• you only travel for the ‘gram so you’re trying to get as many picturesque selfies as possible in one day

this is the place for you.

Personally, I only had two hours to spend here, and almost burst into tears when it seemed like the paths of shit shops would never end, and any good landscape shot was occupied by at least 3 couples inanely posing.

My best advice for Cat Cat village is:

#1 It’s better under the influence. The food is better, the trash souvenirs are funnier, the people taking their social media personas way too seriously seem less of a nuisance, and when you inevitably overpay for something, it bothers you less

#2 Do it backwards. The main entrance is right next door to the Sapa Sky hotel. Pay for your ticket, get a map, and then walk down the hill for 20 minutes to the other entrance and go in there. If you want to buy authentic clothes and snacks from local ethnic minority people, they occupy the far less trafficked backend of the park, probably because the rent is cheaper. 

Temple of Literature, Hanoi | Vietnam

The Temple of Literature (Vietnamese: Văn Miếu) is my favorite respite in Hanoi proper. Strolling through helps me forget the overwhelming noise, pollution and business outside, and I can easily spend a couple hours here relaxing.

Founded as a Confucian temple in 1072, by 1076 Quốc Tử Giám University was built over an area just south of the temple, now taken up by 12 city blocks. The school/worship center was where civil servants were trained to serve the Lý dynasty.

The Confucian education system was inherited from the previous thousand years of Chinese occupation (111 BC to 980 AD) and therefore initially derived most of its content and structure from the Chinese system of educating mandarins.

Students generally studied for 3-7 years, learning classical Chinese, Chinese philosophy, Chinese history, and poetry composition. Among others, students read The Four Books (Tứ thư, 四書): "The Great Study" (Đại Học, 大學), "The Golden Means" (Trung Dung, 中庸), "The Analects" (Luận Ngữ, 論語) and "Mencius" (Mạnh Tử, 孟子); Five Pre-Confucian Classics (Ngũ Kinh, 五經): "Book of Odes (Kinh Thi, 詩經), "Book of Annals" (Kinh Thư, 書經), "Book of Rites" (Kinh Lễ, 禮記), "Book of Change" (Kinh Dịch, 易經) and "Book of Spring and Autumn" (Kinh Xuân Thu, 春秋).

The Trần dynasty (1225 - 1400) opened up civil service to commoners, and during this time the famously difficult and competitive exam system developed into its 3 stage form. At specific fortuitous intervals on the Lunar calendar (around 2-3 years apart), exams were administered at provincial, national, and finally royal levels, with the national level schooling and exams taking place at the Temple of Literature. The royal exam was administered by the emperor personally and took place at court.

Four ranks were awarded to successful applicants:

Trạng nguyên (狀元) – first place, reserved for the best scholars

• Bảng nhãn (榜眼) – second place

• Thám hoa (探花) – third place

• Tiến sĩ (進士) – all the other successful applicants

First place was reserved for exceptional genius, not simply scoring the highest in any given exam year. In roughly 800 years of educating scholar/servants, the trạng nguyên rank was only awarded to 55 men.

Though the Vietnamese adapted Chinese script to create their own language (Chữ-Nôm) in the 10th century, it was only in the 12th and 13th centuries that Chữ-Nôm was systematized as the official language of government (and recognized as part of meaningful literature), with appropriate bilingual study materials issued. The classical Chinese characters visible throughout the temple today are Chữ-Nôm, and therefore unintelligible to Chinese readers.

During the Lê dynasty, successful examinees were honored by having their names inscribed on the stone steles still displayed today. The stones tell us that between 1443 and 1778 over a hundred exams were held, with about 20 successful candidates emerging from each exam.

The school limped past the 1770 fall of the Lê dynasty, but eventually closed in 1779 during the Tây Sơn era of decentralized dynasties and peasant revolts. Coming to power in 1802, the Nguyễn dynasty moved their capital from Hà Nội to Huế, opening the new imperial academy there. The former Quốc Tử Giám was reopened as a Hoài Đức district school.

By the time Hanoï was made the capital of French Indochina in 1902, the school had emptied of students and fallen into sufficient disrepair for the French to nickname it “the pagoda of crows,” both a metaphor for its death as a cultural center, and a literal description of the multiple crows nests in old mango trees throughout.

Despite registering the temple as a historic monument in 1906, the French first phased out imperial exams from 1913-1916, and then destroyed large sections of the site during the First Indochina War (1945 - 1954). What stands today is the restored temple complex, but not the outlying school and dormitory buildings.

The layout of the temple was modeled on that of the temple at Qufu, Shandong (Confucius’ birthplace). In Confucianism, morality means respecting the 5 essential social relationships:

1. Ruler and Subject

2. Father and Son

3. Elder Brother and Younger Brother

4. Husband and Wife

5. Friend and Friend

Furthermore, there are five essential elements that form the world: metal, wood, fire, water and earth.

Therefore, there are five consecutive walled courtyards connected by gateways, though in terms of exploration there are really seven main sections:

1. the entry with 4 pillars and Văn Miếu gate

2. the first courtyard and Đại Trung gate

3. the second courtyard with the Khuê Văn Các (Pleiades pavilion)

4. the third courtyard with the Thiên Quang Tinh (heavenly light well), stele pavilions, and Đại Thành (gate of great success)

5. the fourth courtyard with East and West shrines for Confucian disciples and the Ceremony House

6. the fifth courtyard with a shrine to the god of the place and East and West guard houses

7. and finally the Đền Khải Thánh sanctuary and academy building

The four pillars that form the street entrance famously warn riders to dismount. Entry tickets and audio guides are sold just next to the flag lined area. The bronze bell in the front Văn Miếu gate dates from the Trần dynasty, is inscribed with a phoenix and dragon symbolizing the emperor and empress, can only be touched by monks, and was only rung to announce the entry of very prestigious visitors. Walking under the bell to hand your ticket to the security guard, you are on the central path, once reserved solely for royalty (all others had to enter through either of the side gates and walk down those paths).

At graduation and back-to-school seasons, you can find busloads of Vietnamese students of all ages racing through the first courtyard to pose at the various gates. The first gate, connecting the first and second courtyards, is the Đại Trung Môn, translated as “great middle gate”. It is so called because it combines the names of two important works of Confucianism: Đại Học (Great Learning) and Trung Dung (The Doctrine of the Mean). T

The carp symbol at the top references a Chinese proverb explaining that while many carp swim against the stream, the few that manage to jump over the waterfall become dragons. The left side gate is the gate of Accomplished Virtue (Thành Đức), and the right side gate is the gate of Attained Talent (Đạt Tài). In Chinese tradition, the left side is more important than the right, so these gates serve to remind students that talent will only get you so far, hard work has to take you the rest of the way.

The second courtyard is my personal favorite area of the temple, and is where students traditionally spent their time studying and relaxing outdoors. The waterlily ponds and lawns remain incredibly soothing!

The Khuê Văn Các (constellations pavilion) is named to symbolize the Temple of Literature’s role as the brightest star in the Vietnamese educational and cultural firmament. The circle and square ornament enclosing the bell symbolizes sky and earth, yin and yang.

In the third courtyard, the Thiên Quang Tinh (heavenly light well) served both as a literal mirror for scholars to dress themselves appropriately and as a symbol for calm and careful reflection.

There are 82 steles of doctors (9 of the original 91 have been lost to war and natural disasters). The bases of the steles are carved as tortoises who literally stand for longevity and wisdom, ensuring the names of the successful students last forever.

The Đại Thành Môn (gate of great success) connecting the third and fourth courtyards is the architectural distinction between the areas meant for relatively casual student use, and the areas intended for worship.

In the fourth courtyard, the once Eastern and Western shrines for Confucian worshippers are now dedicated to tourist retail and offices. Formerly the Eastern building was devoted to Confucius and the Western building to Chu Văn An (the most famous historic master of the Imperial Academy). Now you can buy a bottle of water or an artistic bit of calligraphy here. Every effort is made to prune the potted plants into animal shapes, with little success.

The Đại Bái Đường (House of Ceremony) is the first really impressive interior, where new doctors kneeled and prayed for both physical longevity (symbolized by the crane) and eternal acclaim (symbolized by the turtle). Just beyond the House of Ceremony is the Đại Thành Sanctuary, where locals still come to worship and bring offerings for Confucius and his four greatest disciples. In the past, emperors and other eminences have worshipped here.

The fifth courtyard is oddly empty and unornamented. There’s a second street exit on the south west end. The buildings on the side are shuttered. I have met one person who visited on a Saturday afternoon/evening and happened upon a classical Vietnamese musical performance of some sort happening here.

At the far end are the former guard houses, which now house little local art exhibits and a stand where you can purchase? or rent? (I don’t know, I’ve thankfully evaded them to date) scarves so as to not offend the religious old ladies squawking in loud disapproval of your shoulders/arms/cleavage/miniskirt.

Beyond the guard houses is the old Imperial Academy administration building. Downstairs there are displays of relics that once belonged to scholars and students, including books, calligraphy brushes, ceremonial robes, scrolls and their lacquered cases, royal decrees etc. There are also a few very very old photos of the buildings and grounds from the turn of the last century. It’s incredible to see how this rather visually empty area has become a very densely populated urban neighborhood.

One current use of the building that connects with its past is its role as the site for judging entries in national contests of various traditional Vietnamese art forms. I have seen elderly, traditionally dressed judges carefully examining the finalist entries for annual ceramics, waterolor, and calligraphy contests here.

Upstairs is dedicated to the worship of the three emperors who contributed the most to the temple and university:

• Lý Thánh Tông (1023–1072), who founded the temple in 1070 (middle altar)

• Lý Nhân Tông (1066–1127), who founded the Imperial Academy (right altar)

• Lê Thánh Tông (1442–1497), who introduced the steles in 1484 (left altar)

There’s a little balcony in front with a great open view of the old sections of the city.

Back outside, there’s a pagoda bell that was cast in 2000, when the fifth courtyard was renovated. I’ve never heard it rung! In Buddhism generally, the belief is that ringing the bell awakens the mind, reminding Buddhists to share love and pray for peace. Supposedly when the bell’s peals reach heaven, the dead rest in peace; when the peals reach hell, sinners are temporarily released from their suffering. In traditional Vietnamese bronze casting, it’s known that mixing in a certain proportion of pure gold helps the sound of the bell carry farther. In Vietnam, donors are proud to donate real gold (at great expense, obviously) for pagoda bells, considering it a family honor.

If you can’t tell, for me this a Hanoi must-do. Tickets are 30,000 VND (less than $2 USD) and audio guides (which are totally worth it!!) are an additional amount.

TC Cannon: At the Edge of America

TC Cannon was a Native American (Kiowa/Caddo/French) painter, poet, musician, and Vietnam vet. His Kiowa name was “he who stands in the sun”, he trained in the Southern Plains style of painting at the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, and he passed away in 1978 at the too young age of 31. During his lifetime his work was often interpreted as political and subversive; now it’s clearly so much more: earnest and insightful portraiture; aesthetically emblematic of its era; plaintive and relatable on a personal level. The feeling strongly impressed upon me by his work was patience.

TC Cannon with his father in Vietnam

If you’re interested in all the academic takes on TC Cannon, and want to hear his poetry read aloud, this is a great playlist

I care deeply for the preservation of indigenous American peoples and their cultures. It has taken so long for mainstream perceptions of colonization to change from ‘a fight they lost and we won’ to . . . .the genocide it was. Going to the annual Bear Mountain powwow with my grandfather (who also snail-mailed me related anthropology and archaeology articles, yup, I’m old) helped me learn the difference between considering a cultural outgroup and consuming it. Decades later, as the cultural appropriation debate rages, I find myself reaching back for clarity in the distinction.

This is a TC Cannon song ‘handed down’ in the family of one of his buddies

I’ve never visited the Southwest or the Plains but hope to someday. In his work I see a lot of Gaugin, a very little Catlin. I’d love to see the settings.

His sister still sells his work and manages his estate: http://www.tccannon.com/

Support the Native American Rights Fund: https://www.narf.org/

Go to the Powwow I went to as a little girl: https://www.crazycrow.com/site/event/bear-mountain-powwow/

The Cooper Hewitt + Cube Museum 2019 Design Triennial: NATURE

Fantasma by AnotherFarm: transgenic silk (injected with coral DNA to glow red) dresses

As per the website:

With projects ranging from experimental prototypes to consumer products, immersive installations, and architectural constructions, Nature—Cooper Hewitt Design Triennial, co-organized with Cube design museum, presents the work of sixty-two international design teams. Collaborations involve scientists, engineers, advocates for social and environmental justice, artists, and philosophers. They are engaging with nature in innovative and ground-breaking ways, driven by a profound awareness of climate change and ecological crises as much as advances in science and technology.

Tree of 40 Fruit by Sam Van Aken: using centuries old grafting techniques, 40 varietals are incorporated into one living tree

Choreography of Life by Charles Reilly: depicts ATP synthase harvesting the metabolic energy stored in ATP bonds

Bioreceptive Concrete Panels by Marcos Cruz, Richard Beckett, Javier Ruiz, Nina Jotanovic, Anete Salman, Manja van de Worp: a natural method of fighting air pollution

Cillia coat by Jifei Ou, Hiroshi Ishii, Fabian Neumann, Sen Dai: 3D printed hairlike structures on the coat can be programmed to provide warmth, act as sensors or aid movement

Bamboo Theatre by Xu Tiantian: with a little help from an architect, local Chinese bamboo basketmaking knowhow helps villagers build stable architectural structures for community gatherings

A World of Sand by AtelierNL: a sentimental statement about teamwork and diversity?

AIR (Avoid-Intercept-Redesign) sneaker prototype for Adidas by Parley for the Oceans: running shoes made entirely of marine plastic waste

3D-Painted Hyperelastic Bone by Adam E. Jakus and Ramille Shah: hydroxyapatite (a form of calcium found in bones) makes these implants porous, flexible, strong and recognized by the body like real bones, aiding faster bone regeneration and tissue integration with low or no immune response

The Substitute by Alexandra Daisy Ginsberg: CGI animation and DeepMind behavioral software is used to recreate the extinct male northern white rhino

Project Coelicolor by Natsai Audrey Chieza: Textiles dyed with pigment producing bacteria eiiminate water waste and pollution from the process. Colors are controlled by pH, oxygen exposure and time.

Bleached (II) by Erez Navi Pana: this salt-crystallized loofah and wood stool symbolizes changing human perception of natural commodities.

Cisterns by Hiroshi Sambuichi: displayed in old city cisterns around the world, this installation transposes the experience of visiting the Itsukushima Shrine (in Miyajima, Japan) onto local environments

Biocement Masonry by Ginger Krieg Dosier: made of mixed sand, nutrients and microorganisms, these bricks are as strong as standard bricks and are grown and dried in molds, eliminating high carbon emissions typical of the standard firing process.

Warka Water Tower by Arturo Vittori: collects potable water from dew, fog and rain

Aguahoja II by Neri Oxman: made of biocomposite materials made from shrimp shells and fallen leaves, these “skin and shell” structures can be 3D printed and programmed with different mechanical, optical and olfactory properties, including timed decomposition.

Curiosity Cloud by Katharina Mischer and Thomas Traxler: hand fabricated replicas of different insects that would not be found together in nature are united, and triggered to flutter by human movement

Made by Rain by Aliki van der Kruijs: textiles dyed by rain interacting with their ink are “fingerprints'“ of location, date, time interval, and millimeters of rainfall

After Ancient Sunlight by Charlotte McCurdy: this petroleum free algae-based plastic raincoat is manufactured in a manner that metabolizes atmospheric carbon rather than emitting it

Personal Food Computer by Daniel Poitrast and the OpenAg team at MIT: a tabletop sized, robot monitored chamber creates environmental conditions yielding desired phenotypic expressions from plants

Visualizing the Cosmic Web by Kim Albrecht: how are galaxies in our universe related? mapping their connections with different models helps us better understand the history of our universe, or potential multiverse

Monarch Sanctuary by Mitchell Joachim and Vivian Kuan: a vertical meadow with glass facade and carefully temperature and humidity controlled interior helps replete dwindling Monarch butterfly populations

I hope against hope that some of these carbon negative and pollution upcycling technologies become standard before we ruin Earth’s habitability.

Old, Old Houses in New York City: Dyckman Farmhouse, Sylvan Terrace, Morris-Jumel Mansion & Hamilton Grange

A sunny day in Morningside Park, very much engineered to look like a Hudson River School painting

I love visiting historic houses. I find them inspirational from an interior decorating point of view, but also love soaking up their vibes . . . I don’t feel voyeuristic, I feel right at home!

Dyckman Farmhouse, built 1784

Recently, I’ve gotten a couple Inwood listings (for those of you who don’t know . . . my day job for the past 8 years is as a professional real estate agent, a perfect match for me as a native New Yorker) and so have been traveling quite a bit up and down the west side. It is time consuming to get to these neighborhoods, so I thought I would fold in visits to uptown sights I’d always meant to see . . . . but hadn’t.

First up, the Dyckman Farmhouse between 204th and 207th streets on Broadway. This is a Dutch Colonial style farmhouse continuously occupied by one family and donated to the city as a museum in the 1910s. The sisters decorated it in an early 19th century fashion, as they remember their grandparents keeping it.

It’s two floors and a cellar. The cellar is, of course, the kitchen; the first floor is the main entertaining space and upstairs are bedrooms. In undecorated rooms throughout there are vitrines of colonial artifacts that were either donated or unearthed in the vicinity. One silly touch is that many of the items are labeled with their name in Dutch (it’s not a stole, it’s a stoel!)

Out back, dug into the hill, is a Hessian hut. These were used to house George III’s Hessian mercenaries. New York is terribly cold in winter and terribly hot in summer, and was almost completely Tory during the revolution. The hut predates the house.

Walking north on St. Nicholas Ave. from 160th St., Sylvan Terrace looks like a Wild West movie set. It’s actually 20 rowhouses built in 1882 with maintained facades (the interiors are rarely even partly original). They go for around $1.6 million these days.

At the top of Sylvan Terrace is Jumel Terrace, and the Morris-Jumel mansion. Built in 1765 by one of the wealthiest men in New York, it is quite different in character from the Dyckman farmhouse.

Morris-Jumel mansion, built 1765

Like the Dyckman farmhouse, the Morris-Jumel mansion is decorated in the early 19th century style; obviously, it’s a much grander house.

Dare I say I find the juxtaposition of 1820s-40s wallpapers and carpeting against Georgian neoclassical decorative elements horrifying?

Apparently when in France the Jumels socialized with Napoleon, so there’s a lot of that Empire style of decor as well.

The house has a bit of history: this is where George Washington planned the Battle of Harlem Heights; this is where Aaron Burr and Eliza Jumel shared their marriage of convenience (her benefit being the maintenance of social standing, his the spending of her fortune).

The upstairs bedrooms are furnished with a natural feeling jumble of furniture and decorative objects from the mid 18th through mid 19th centuries.

Of course, the kitchen is again in the basement. When I reflect on my childhood, I remember spending an inordinate amount of time in colonial kitchens learning about how people cooked and ate in the 18th century. Isn’t it so silly, looking back? Isn’t it the part of history that matters the least?

The grounds of Morris park are very small but removed and peaceful. The plantings are authentic to those that would have been used in the colonial Americas. When I visited they were past their bloom, but the heirloom roses here are known for their strong and lovely scent.

I hate to say it, but Hamilton Grange (at St. Nicholas Terrace and 141st St.) was a disappointment. Firstly, it’s not on its original site, and it’s hard to contextually appreciate in the corner of granite rocks it currently occupies.

The cellar floor is a small museum for schoolchildren using a few artifacts to map out Hamilton’s biography. The piano nobile, which I’ve photographed here, contains few if any of Hamilton’s belongings. The third floor bedrooms are inaccessible National Park Service offices. In other words, a waste of a beautiful historic house! This is technically the Hamilton Memorial, rather than a historic house museum, so my hopes were likely unfair expectations.

A lot of the furniture is repro and the entry way floor is LINOLEUM! At least the palette isn’t as offensive as the Morris-Jumel mansion’s. Also, I have to give it to the basement kiddie museum: if you are quite familiar with the musical Hamilton, you will laugh at how some lyrics are pulled line for line from the 90s educational video played down there.

Would I revisit any of these houses? No, although if I’m in the neighborhood on a sunny day I won’t hesitate to take my lunch to the Morris-Jumel garden to sit and relax in tranquility.

the Museum of the City of New York

I’m a Native New Yorker. It’s the second sentence in my professional bio. It’s about 70% of my personal identity (New Yorker first, dog lover second, art/culture/history fan third, Buddhist fourth, Real Estate Agent fifth, Youtuber sixth, aspiring world traveler seventh . . . friend and sister eighth?!?! yikes . . . all other social roles of incidental significance . . . )

I’ve also been one of those white ladies you would truly regret asking about her ethnicity, because my family goes all the way back in the city. My heritage is a rather perfectly proportional reflection of the second generation rise of various immigrant populations into socially acceptable circles, from the arrival of the Dutch in New Amsterdam onwards. I’ve seen enough eyes glaze over to now lightheartedly summarize with “standard East Coast blend,” “lots of white,” “history’s a mystery!”, “miscellaneous Euro”, etc.

All this to say, I didn’t think anyone could tell my anything about the history of New York I hadn’t learned from the explicit and tacit teachings of my grandparents. i was wrong! The Museum of the City of New York has the best teaching exhibits I could imagine on both the demographics of the city over time AND its social, political, economic and cultural evolution. I spent many hours there, and could spend MANY more.

New York has unfortunately always been rife with nativism, classism and prejudice. I wish more New Yorkers would visit this museum to learn some FACTS. Perhaps the part I enjoyed most was seeing tourists from many different countries (I heard German, Dutch, Russian, Arabic, Polish?, Spanish and Italian spoken in the galleries that day) taking the time to deliberately watch the detailed, map intensive video exhibits, and then discuss what it meant to go from being whatever-they-are to being an assimilated New Yorker.

In this country we often ask what it means “to be a real American,” and so often ignore the far more important question of what it should mean to become American. This is a question us citizens can answer constructively, together, without judging each other’s ancestry.

I may always cringe when I hear myself on voicemail or see myself on film, with the nasal, lockjawed pronunciation and incessant supra shoulder gesturing that will mark me as a New YAWKUH for the rest of my days. I may want to go far, far away for as long as I can. I do still love the city though, and this museum does a great job explaining it. I can’t recommend it highly enough!

If, as a native, I could choose one essential takeaway for anyone visiting, it would be this: please remember New York City’s history of peaceful protest and social advocacy!

Quick Visit to El Museo del Barrio

About 10 days ago my psychiatrist said getting out and exercizing, even if it’s just walking a mile or two, is an essential curative action for my depression and grief. Despite my new 20mg Lexapro subscription, I’ve been spending about half my days in bed, in a darkened room, feeling bad, so I decided today to take this advice to heart.

El Museo is small and friendly and all about how tough it was/is to be a Puerto Rican in New York. There are fewer but similarly inspired works by Dominican and Mexican Americans also.

I wish I could say spending a good 40 minutes considering the systemic oppression of Latinos made my personal problems seem small by comparison, but it didn’t. Aren’t all catastrophes essentially personal?

It was a nice experience and reason to get out of bed nonetheless. Kind people, good art, good restaurant, and the entrance to the area of Central Park with the formal garden and duck pond is right across the street.

I walked around the pond a bit despite the rain. That was the theme of my day: sometimes it rains; sometimes it’s dark and gray; whether it’s the weather outside or the weather in my mind, from now on I won’t let it stop me.

The obstacles I’m facing are pretty serious, but the world didn’t end today.

Gritty Sh*tty Tribeca

I . . . never loved Tribeca. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t turn down a multimillion dollar cast iron palace à la Blake Lively and Harry Styles, but the reasons celebs love it tend to be the very reasons plebes hate it. Street life is nil . . . many brunchy bistros, all with very expensive potted plantings rotated biweekly; the occasional superbougie toy shop or book store; dive bars, dollar pizza places, graffitied vacant storefronts, and brutalist highrises mix indiscriminately with the sedate, darkened lobbies of luxury condo buildings made from gutted Victorian factories and warehouses.

Façades remain deliberately gritty and retail deliberately shitty for the discreet, impressionist lifestyles of the überrich: going about their business in chauffeured black cars, they do not participate in street life; from afar (say the huge windows of a $20 million loft apartment) the graffiti and grime are picturesque and “old school New York.” Dollar slice shops are headspaces to glance at punk teenagers and daydream, NOT a dietary option, symbol of class polarization, or symptom of an urban food desert.

For all my disdain, I understand how the neighborhood remains aesthetically inspirational for many. So here are some themes I like in Tribeca!

1. The neon lighting shops along Canal. This has been an electrician source place for at least 70 years, and they don’t bother doing anything with their windows at all, which is fun!

2. Graffiti . . . this is what the tourists come for!

3. Brutalist architecture and public sculpture

4. Art Deco

5. City Hall Park. Small enough for a peaceful pretty stroll, and the golden statue Civic Fame is visible from almost anywhere in the neighborhood, calling like a beacon of serenity.

And here are two unique spots I just like:

1. The Ghostbusters fire station? How have I lived 36 years as a native New Yorker and not realized this?

2. Philip Williams Posters. Local legend since 1973 and he’s in the shop every day, a decorator MUST

Hanging Around the Brooklyn Museum

Every time I go to the Brooklyn Museum, I spend the whole day there. I fully intend to venture out towards the other attractions of Prospect Park, I just get sucked into the place! It’s the perfect size museum to do in a day, special exhibitions included; the cafeteria is scenic and peaceful for a solo casual meal and the restaurant is viable for a business meeting.

On a beautiful day, the sunny plaza in front is also a great place to sit and eat something from the food trucks that line up outside. There’s usually popcorn, ice cream, pretzels, hot dogs/fries/classics and halal available.

Unfortunately photos were not permitted in the Frida Kahlo: Appearances Can Be Deceiving exhibit, so stay tuned for an additional post discussing that with professional images.

Meanwhile, I checked out Infinite Blue, a collection of art & objects dating from 3500 BCE to the present focusing on “spiritual, powerful, beautiful blue”; Arts of Korea, featuring decorative arts through the centuries and Kwang Young Chun: Aggregations, very recent work from a contemporary South Korean artist; Eric N. Mack: Lemme walk across the room, the first NYC solo exhibition by the artist; and the iconic permanent installation The Dinner Party by Judy Chicago.

I was losing steam by the time I sauntered through One: Egúngún, and finished my visit breezing through the permanently installed Period Rooms and Decorative Arts collection I am so familiar with.

The Brooklyn Museum permanent collection is also so great at teaching American history through art; it’s a lot more digestible than the American Wing at the Met.

For me, the fun in going to museums is noticing little things I never have before. On this visit I noticed how Klimt must have been familiar with and inspired by 18th and 19th century Korean or Chinese portraiture when creating his famously gilded, ornate, abstract, two dimensional backgrounds; I also got up close for the first time and observed how 3D and textural the best stained glass is, with rocks cut like rocks, and petals softly rounded like petals. The effect was sadly impossible for me to catch on camera in the limited time I had before the gallery closed!

I wasn’t able to eat in the neighborhood, but at least I took the time to stroll past the Brooklyn Public Library and Grand Army Plaza monument to the next subway stop. What a lovely day!