APRIL IN NEW YORK

I had a wonderful time last weekend in New York City and New Haven. I took the red-eye from SFO to JFK on Wednesday April 1 -- arriving at 7:00 a.m. I probably had only two or three hours sleep. My friend Mary Ellen met me at the Jamaica Station, and we took the train to Penn Station. From there we dropped off my luggage at my nephew Sheridan’s building in Tribeca, then went to St. John the Divine. We discovered there was no 9:00 a.m. service -- the next was at 12:15-- so we went for coffee near Columbia. 

Years ago Mary Ellen had worked at a Jewish Student Center near campus and we stopped by to see the exterior of the building. Afterwards, we explored the campus. I was especially impressed with the domed McKim, Mead, and White main administration building. It was glorious, early spring day. Daffodils and tulips were in full bloom-- though leaves on the trees had yet to open.

We returned to St. John the Divine and went to the 12:15 mass in the small chapel at the very end of the apse, behind the main altar. There were fewer than ten congregants. I mentioned the anniversary of Dennis’ death to the priest. He asked for volunteers to read, so I read the first lesson and Mary Ellen, the prayers of the people. My friend Jeffrey joined us after his class that morning. It was an appropriate way to commemorate Dennis.

From there we went for another coffee and cherry pastry at a Hungarian café  nearby. Jeffrey lives only a few blocks from Columbia. He had to grade some exams so wasn’t able to join us for the afternoon.

Mary Ellen and I decided to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Jeffrey recommended taking a bus, which went by the top of Central Park and down 5^th Avenue. It gave a marvelous view of 5^th Avenue. I particularly wanted to see the newly reopened Greek and Roman wing at the Met. I hadn’t realized that the old one had been completely demolished and this was a brand new addition. It is absolutely splendid! The architecture, mosaic and marble inlaid floors set off the outstanding collection beautifully! Mary Ellen took my picture by a handsome bust of Constantine. 

Then Mary Ellen treated me to a delightful lunch on the first floor restaurant near the French and Italian sculpture court. Nearby were several remarkable Canova’s.

Afterwards we returned to my nephew’s apartment and visited his charming wife Sylvie, their Swiss houseguest also named Sylvie, and their enchanting French cat (from whom I still have several flea bites on my hands.)

Sheridan and Sylvie live at a fabulous location on Park Place– just three blocks from City Hall, two blocks from St. Paul’s church, one block from the Woolworth building and three blocks from ground zero—the site of the old World Trade Center Towers. They are very close to most subway lines. 

After a nap, I headed off to 23^rd Street to meet Jeffrey before coming back to dinner at Sheridan and Sylvie’s. Jeffrey met me by a vitamin store and we walked the few blocks to The Players on Gramercy Park.

In 1888, Edwin Booth, America’s pre-eminent Shakespearean actor, and fifteen others including Mark Twain and General William Tecumseh Sherman, founded the Players. Modeled after London’s famed Garrick Club, The Players was the first American “gentleman’s club’ of its kind. 

(So they say on their website. Though San Francisco’s Bohemian Club, of which I am a member, was founded in 1872. Its four pillars are Music, Literature, Drama, and the Fine Arts and we have lots of lawyers, doctors and architects as members.)

The purpose of the Players; “The promotion of social intercourse between members of the dramatic profession and the kindred professions of literature, painting, architecture, sculpture and music, law and medicine, and the patrons of the arts…” 

The Players is located in a Greek revival townhouse facing historic Gramercy Park. Jeffrey checked our coats at the front desk, obtained a key to the park and took me for a tour with the statue of Edwin Booth in the center. Then thanks to reciprocity between the clubs, Jeffrey took me on a brief tour of the National Arts Club next door to The Players. It’s located in former Governor Tilden’s house. Samuel Tilden, of course, received the majority of popular votes in 1876, but --as in 2000-- was denied the Presidency.

One Thursday each month, The Players have a gathering for members, and I was fortunate enough to accompany Jeffrey on such a night. We had cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, while listening to fellow actors sing show tunes with an accompanist on an upright. Jeffrey showed me some drawers with a collection of plaster life and death masks including John Keats, Edmund Burke, Goethe & Schiller among several others. He also showed me the room on one of the top floors, where Edwin Booth died. Jeffrey will be co-directing a play written by a fellow Player to be performed at the National Arts Club in a few months.  

My nephew Sheridan works nearby, so he joined us for a few minutes, while we stayed behind conversing with some of the distinguished elder members.

Then we scurried back to Sheridan and Sylvie’s apartment on Park Place to meet my friend Mary Ellen, my niece Allison Martin, nephew Matt Collins and his friend Jan. Sylvie had prepared many different hors d’oeuvres, which constituted an exotic and complete meal.

Late as it was, I decided to accompany my niece, nephews and friends to the Tribeca bar about seven blocks away where architect Matt acts as security doorman a couple nights a week. I had quick tonic and lime, then headed back to Sheridan and Sylvie’s to get a decent night’s sleep in their bedroom (while they graciously slept on an air mattress on the living room floor) to prepare for the journey to New Haven and the 95^th Anniversary Spizzwink(?) Reunion-- the original purpose of the trip.