What could be better than an afternoon of Balanchine at NYCB with music by Verdi, Hindemith and Tschaikovsky, dancing by Tiler Peck, et al. Have you seen the recent additions to the promenade, the rectangular area which overlooks the Lincoln Center fountain? I’ve never appreciated the fat white sculpted figures, two at each end of the promenade. Now, they’re festooned in polka dots. Behind them are gigantic videos that reflect polka dots. Is this a plea to youth? Who knows. In the middle of the promenade are puppet like figures revolving on a circle. These swayed gently and bobbed up and down. Somehow, they’re charming.

On an icy cold day a friend and I went to Zwirner Galeries wonderful hot exhibit, Concrete Cuba. The works are by a short lived group that existed from 1959 to 1961. Sandu Darie, one of the artists in the exhibit, had said, “This is concrete painting because each painting is a new reality.” This statement reinforces what I’ve always thought: artists should express themselves through their work.