I like to walk up the Guggenheim’s spiral rotunda, turn around and walk down. The current Moholy-Nagy: Future Present exhibit is a stunner. Moholy-Nagy was born in Hungary at the end of the nineteenth century. He embraced the new technical developments of his times. Aluminum and plexiglass shimmer in his later, American works. Moholy-Nagy sculpted, painted and experimented with photography and film. The Guggenheim is a perfect venue for his work. The sky was the limit for him. Half way up or down the ramp is a charming key hole shaped door. It’s the entrance to a small, beautiful library with Frank Lloyd Wright like chairs and free standing book stands, a cozy nook packed with books and tech equipment about Moholy-Nagy.
On Thursday I ventured to Morristown, N. J. to attend a Johnny Mathis concert. Isn’t he dead? several friends asked. Not at all. At eighty, the elegant, gentlemanly Mathis is still belting out Henry Mancini’s standards: “Moon River”, “The Days of Wine and Roses”, but the songs I savor are “Wonderful, Wonderful”, “It’s not for Me to Say” and “99 Miles to L. A.”. One of our party mentioned that Mathis had received operatic training. It certainly shows. And another thing. Mr. Mathis practices the old fashioned virtue of punctuality. The concert was scheduled to begin at 8 p.m. Guess what – It did.
City Center is like a beehive. Entrance to the main site is on 55th Street but studios associated with the theatre are found within a two block radius. Mac Twining was performancing in Walkaround Time by Merce Cunningham. The Cunningham Foundation studio is on 56th Street. You take the ornate elevator to the fifth floor, enter a vast and empty studio and are engulfed by the NYC thrill of the new and the young venerating the old and venerable. In NYC terms, 1968, the year Cunningham created Walkaround Time is venerable. It was a delightful three quarters of an hour.