Weekly Adventure: I’m Nobody Who Are You at the Morgan Library

I love Emily Dickinson. I didn’t always. When I first read her I found her cold and distant and overly formal. Which looks ridiculous to me now. Imagine, thinking of a poem like this as reserved:

Wild Nights

But I also love what I know about her as a person. Not the mythical figure of the ghostly pale woman upstairs in her New England attic scribbling away and never leaving her house, but the weird and wonderful, and yes unmarried (gasp!), woman that I’ve pieced together over the years. The most clues for me came not from a biography but this collection of her “Envelope Poems.” I feel like that book made it the most clear how integral writing poetry was to her daily life, but also showed that she had a life beyond poetry. She was cooking or going to a concert or reading a letter when had these flashes of inspiration.

IMG_8287.JPG

Poem draft on a program card

The small show of her letters and drafts on view right now at The Morgan Library does a nice job of depicting Miss Dickinson’s quiet, but not empty, life. I especially liked the way they presented her interest in botany, with a digitized version of the plant catalog she made while a student at Mt. Holyoke. (It’s really beautifully designed and lets visitors flip though the pages, which obviously could never be done with the fragile original.) I also liked the way she wrote up and down on the pages of her letters, like she simply had too many thoughts to contain them to one direction:

IMG_8281

I had never been to The Morgan before, and I really appreciated the design of the exhibition. There was a lot of contextual information, but it was presented in a clear, uncluttered way. Also, this was the correct paint color:

IMG_8285

Though it doesn’t photograph very well apparently. It’s much greener than this in person.

It’s also just a beautiful space, J.P. Morgan’s library had me swooning (as my Instagram followers can tell you), and while I was there a classical duo was playing in the central courtyard, which was a lovely addition. I highly recommend a trip as a way to pass a gray Sunday afternoon.

The exhibition is on view through May 21st at The Morgan Library & Museum at 225 Madison Ave

Advertisements

Weekly Adventure: Amélie on Broadway

IMG_8264

I wasn’t sure what to expect from Amélie as a musical. I had seen the movie it’s based on in high school, but I admit that I really only remembered the image of Audrey Tautou‘s mischievous smile from the DVD case. Oh and that it was “quirky.” While I’m ambivalent about the current musical theater trend to musical-ize every even marginally successful film, the opportunity to Phillipa Soo (otherwise known as Eliza-freaking-Schuyler-Hamilton) and my longtime love* Adam Chanler-Berat would have been inducement enough to see pretty much any show.

And this one was definitely worth the trip! As my New York godmother, and frequent theater date, put it as we were walking out this was completely “charming.” And it is quirky. (There are extended sequences involving a garden gnome.) But, mostly due to the truly great central performance from Soo, it also has a lovely emotional center about how hard it can be to allow yourself to connect to the people around you.

door

This scene/song was lovely (Photo Credit: Joan Marcus for Playbill)

Obviously anyone who has listened to “Burn” already knows that Phillipa is a star, and this role lets her share all of her effervescence, but she’s backed up by a great supporting cast. The production design is also really great, Amélie lives in a daydream world, and set & costume designer David Zinn, created a world and (closet) I’ll be dreaming about for awhile.

set

(Photo Credit: Instagram user alisonsimmet)

 

1933983_1144146168736_2319981_n

*Baby (ok 19-year-old) Kath meeting Adam outside iNext to Normal (Photo Credit: Hanna Katz)

Read Harder Review: History Was All You Left Me by Adam Silvera

25014114

I have a book buying problem. Even while I’m forcing my way through a library book that has already been renewed multiple times, and staring at the book club book from last month that I haven’t even opened, I cannot stop myself from perusing the shelves of any bookstore I pass. Which is how I stumbled upon History Is All You Left Me a couple of weeks ago on a table at the Barnes & Noble on the Upper West Side, but it’s OK, because it helped me cross “A YA or middle grade novel by an author that identifies as LGTBQIA+” off my Book Riot Read Harder challenge list. 

This is the story of a high school boy, Griffin, whose first boyfriend (and first ex-boyfriend) has tragically died. The story flashes back and forth between the “history” of their relationship and the present day confusion of grief that Griff is grappling with. He’s also dealing with the dead ex-boyfriend’s current boyfriend whose claim on the dead boy makes Griffin super jealous.

It’s a heavy premise, and at times Silverberg handles it with great care and style. But the machinations of the plot – the time jumping conceit, the way he is clearly withholding information from the reader until the very last seconds – made the experience of reading it less emotional for me. The strongest sections of this book are the ones where Griffin’s emotions are allowed to take center stage, even when those emotions are petty or ill-advised. Those sections are relateable and heartbreaking, the “mystery” of why the relationship ended or even how the boyfriend died left me feeling a bit colder.