I spent four pulsating days in the city and I know it is not possible to have this kind of exhilarating feeling in such a short time in any other place but New York.
Arriving at about midnight and getting settled in my hotel room at 3 a.m., it was heaven to finally lie down and stretch on a soft bed. My body was bushed due to too much sitting. But tired as I was, my eyes would not close because of the flood of thoughts whirling in my mind. One was about my long flight from Manila and the thought of the Northwest Airlines’ stewardesses haunted me. I have great sympathy and admiration for all of them who persevere in traveling thousands of miles to earn a living and match the mettle of their younger counterparts.
More than that, I could hardly sleep because I was thinking of my 10 a.m. appointment to meet no less than the Prince of Spain, His Royal Highness, Don Felipe de Borbon y Grecia, the Prince of Asturias! Keep your eyes closed, I told myself, as I kept tossing and turning in my bed ... lest your eyebags reach your chin! Then I laughed so loud like a neurotic!
Recalling my school days at Pratt, when I would have a conversation going on in my head and also with myself every day, I screamed, "God! I’m doing it again! " Stomping my feet on my bed and shrieking in laughter, I thought how very New York it was to be talking to oneself !
Well, by 8 a.m., I was singing in the shower and looking for tea bags for my eyes ... ahhh, the hassles of aging, I expressed my thought aloud. As soon as I got dressed, I went out to feel the Manhattan air and walked three blocks to 49th street east, the new address of the new building of Instituto Cervantes, the Spanish Cultural Center, which also operates in 40 countries around the world including the Philippines. I was there on time and saw this very tall gentleman enter the building just a few minutes after I did. Gentle he was indeed – he was, after all, the royal Prince! I watched his every movement, if only to see if he was any different from us ordinary mortals. He looked so neat ... and I thought to myself, did he take a long shower as I did ... and did he sing, too?
Sitting in front of a crowd in the audio-visual room of the complex, the Prince took several gulps of water throughout the orientation about the building and one more while he was being introduced. Then, calmly, he went to the microphone and made his speech. Oh, yes, he was different! The body movement, the tone of voice had an evident royal ring to it that was simply different. There was this elegance that was so natural – and it had nothing to do with the suit he was wearing.
After his speech, there was a reception in the beautiful garden. It was a bright morning and it was great to see my good friend Antonio Martinez, the indefatigable head of Instituto in New York who was previously assigned in Manila. "Wine at 11 in the morning!" I gushed at Antonio. "Live and enjoy!" he exclaimed with a broad smile and took me away from the crowd to show me the sculpture garden. Still looking handsome but a bit tired, Antonio explained how he was so happy to be through the experience of the whole nitty-gritty of construction as well as the renovation of the place. "I am extremely pleased with the outcome and, of course, having this affair with our Prince to conclude all that is just perfect !" he sighed with great relief.
My face fell, however, when I was told it was not possible to have any picture-taking with the Prince. Nonetheless, because the day was beautiful, I kept my jolly disposition to meet him. As Antonio and I inched our way through the crowd, it was finally my turn. As the Prince shook my hand, instead of saying "It’s my pleasure to meet you," what came out of my mouth were the forbidden words: "May I have a picture with you?" Of course, I gave him my sweetest smile and to my own disbelief, he smiled back and said, "Alright, let us have a picture." I thought that was so sweet of him ... God, what a sweet Prince!
Holding my camera with the precious photo inside, I left Instituto in high spirits with my little treasure, a photo with the Prince. I walked around in the afternoon to see old places I used to go to – not to do the same things like shopping, but to see what was going on. Good old Saks was still bustling and busy, although the upper floors had less traffic than before. Given their prices, I guess a very select clientele would feel normal there. Bergdorf, as always, had a more reserved atmosphere, perhaps because it is more expensive? I don’t know. But more than those shops, I loved the Rockefeller Center where the flowers are always beautiful. The highlight this season are the marvelous art balloons by Japanese artist Takashi Murakami. They just blew my mind as they floated in the sky like some kind of extraterrestrial Christmas gifts descending on the very heart of New York. With the skaters dancing on the ice rink one level below, it gave me the feeling that life is the NOW and it can be so beautiful if one wishes it. I stayed there for hours, oblivious of the time.
The next day, I touched base with my close friend Nydia Obrist and headed to the Whitney Museum on Madison Avenue Naturally, the walk took 50 times longer because of all the interesting shops on the way. What could be more delightful than bumping into some beautiful people? For instance, there was former Makati Stock Exchange president Vivien Yuchengco with spunky daughter Bea getting her apartment together in time for the opening of school.
As always, Whitney had on exhibit such heartstopping works by some of my favorite artists – Jay Defeo, Ellsworth Kelly and the irrepressible Lucas Samaras with his exhibition entitled "Unrepentant Ego." All are showing their works until February 2004. Then there was Lothar Baumgarten’s film, The Origin of the Night, which depicts a fantastic landscape passing through the night into day and back into night. The film shows the forest and river turn into an exotic cosmos of land and aquatic life, gradually revealed as made out of debris and toxic waste. Natural sounds of the forest, punctuated by a thunderstorm, accompany what is described to be a "film sculpture." I learned something new again.
By 6 p.m., my stomach was grumbling and I had my mind set on someone I intended not to miss: Mario Batali and his restaurant Babbo’s. Before I made my trip, I told my old New York gangmates Maribel Seva and Mila Cox about this and they had to reserve a month ahead. We arrived early at Babbo’s located in Greenwich Village and the place was packed. We sat at the bar to wait for our table. It was really tight inside and no great shakes about the decor – very plain but brimming with immaculate white linen cloth all over. Rightly so because the food was the main thing – and it was fabulous. The flavors were exciting and tickled the palate and for a big eater like me, the portions were something no one can complain about.
The following day was even more exciting. If I met with the Prince of Spain two days before, I was meeting with the king of business and finance in the Philippines, none other than Washington SyCip. But putting aside all the business genius in the man, to me, Wash SyCip is the most charming intellectual this side of the world. He has this innate instinct for art and can talk about anything under the sun with great fervor and substance. In that sense, he is unparalleled.
Together with his two other friends, banker Angela Chen and gloves magnate Richard Zuckerwar, Mr. SyCip invited us to dinner. Prior to this, we visited his niece Emily Cheng, a highly respected painter in New York. She has a loft in the Tribeca area where she lives and works. Her studio is every artist’s dream and her art is also something else. Just when I thought I had seen everything, how refreshing it was to be viewing art that still challenges the mind! Such are the oil paintings of Emily Cheng. Her large works take the viewer to a myriad of things and objects from the past, connecting one to the present, enhanced by the artist’s own personal stories and journeys. They are all TDF (to die for).
Dinner was at Tribeca Grill, where Mr. SyCip reserved a table surrounded by more art. This time, the paintings belonged to the restaurant owner, Robert de Niro’s father. At dinner, Richard Zuckerwar, a gloves tycoon who started his business in Manila in the ’70s and still employs many Filipinos to this day, joined us along with another beautiful friend of Wash SyCip, Angela Chen, a banker. The conversation was animated and full of laughter. Like before, the food in Tribeca was consistently good although not as exciting as Molto Mario’s.
The next day, Emily took time to take me to Staten Island to see a meditational exhibit entitled "The Invisible Thread – Buddhist Spirit in Contemporary Art" at the New House Center for Contemporary Art in the Snug Harbor Cultural Center. It was such a long drive that my friend Nydia could no longer contain her sleepiness so I saw her head swinging left, right and forward center. This happens to me, too, whenever I’m on a trip and I get sleepy. Isn’t it amazing how humans retain so much consciousness even in that state of sleepiness to be bringing up their heads each time it drooped into an almost state of slumber?
"There are many ways to go to Staten Island," Emily remarked. "We could take a boat, too, but for lack of time, it is best to drive as we are doing."
It was a nice drive where I saw a different side of New York, a clear change from the bustling mood of Manhattan to the tranquil atmosphere of an area just two hours away.
Entering the hall of the Newhouse Center for Contemporary Art at the Snug Harbor Cultural Center, we encountered a humongous reclining Buddha occupying a major part of the floor. It projected the peacefulness that normally characterizes the Buddha statues around the world, but this one was made of inflatable rubber.
We would have stayed longer had closing time not been too early at 5 p.m.
It was an uplifting experience to see a show with the depth and substance I have been longing to see and feel on the local art scene. To quote a paragraph I like the most from the exhibition catalog: "The exhibition explores the many and varied relationships of Buddhism and the arts in contemporary American culture. Buddhism offers different ways to address reality and the practice of art. It can serve as a catalyst for awakened consciousness and provides fresh insights into the idea and experience of space, time, self and the role of the artist. Attracted by the experience of deep concentration that frees them from the limits of ego, many artists appreciate its philosophy of basic existence that focuses on compassion and ethical life as a way of addressing day-to-day existence as well as addressing society’s problems."