Tag Archives: Telemann

New York City Blog Oct. 4 – Oct. 10


Outside, on Sunday, it was a balmy, perfect New York fall evening. Within, we were wrapped in the cocoon of the Frick Music Room. Pallade Music is a Baroque Ensemble based in Montreal. The four performers play the baroque violin, the baroque cello, the theorbo and the harpsichord. The program was dominated by Telemann (1681-1767). Esteban LaRotta played the theorbo, a lute with a long neck extension, about six feet long. I wondered about the stories LaRotta could tell about getting the theorbo on and off planes and trains and in and out of cars.

Supper was at Persepolis, a charming Persian restaurant. I ordered an odd but delicious appetizer that consisted of cooked diced beets, yogurt, walnuts and raisins. Had someone given me that recipe, I would never have gone near it. Wrong, yet again, and the beets dyed the yogurt a lovely pink.

You can’t go home again. Right? I was a fan/camp follower/ groupie of Charles Ludlum’s Ridiculous Theatrical Company. I even went to Ludlum’s funeral at St. Joseph’s. I have never laughed so hard in my life as I did at Galas and The Mystery of Irma Vep. The little theatre rocked with the screams of laughter. I’m not exaggerating. Ask anyone who was fortunate enough to see the great Ludlum and his partner, Everett Quinton in action. Penguin Reg Theatre is presenting Drop Dead Perfect at St. Clement’s with …. Everett Quinton! St. Clement’s is composed primarily of stairs. A friend and I climbed up the stairs to the theatre, climbed down more stairs and panted to our seats as the curtain was parting. Quinton is great in drag and a very funny man, but Ludlum was the engine. Drop Dead Perfect is a dim memory of what had once been briefly at Christopher and Seventh Avenue South.

New York City Blog March 1- March 8

On Sunday I pulled on my hiking boots and went to the Frick Collection for a late afternoon concert by Florilegium, an English early music ensemble. The audience, dressed for the weather, resembled an apres skiing group. In contrast the romantic Baroque music of Johann Sebastian Bach, Vivaldi, Telemann was well suited to the brocaded interior of the Frick Music Room.

Afterwards, we had dinner at Marks Hotel. We slid and skidded our way from 70th Street to 77th up a deserted Madison.It was well worth it for the wonderful cocktails, oysters, perfectly cooked salmon and homemade cookies.

You can’t go home again. A friend and I returned to a neighborhood haunt on 12 Street, John’s. We both had fond memories of delicious food in a charming setting. The restaurant itself is still engaging: the neon sign that beckons to neighborhood diners, the nostalgic murals that circle the upper walls, the dark furniture and sparkling white linens, and an original feature: the ornate candle confection. If only the service and food were as good as the surroundings. I remember fondly the sweetbreads, a dish that has been banished from John’s menu. So, I ordered tagliatelli with Tuscan ragout. It was featured on the Food Network’s Dives, Drive-Ins and Diners. I can’t imagine Guy Fieri, the genial host, being served the same dish. Forget about Tuscany. It was definitely barbecue out of a bottle.The waiters behaved as if they were in their mothers’ kitchens. They grabbed plates, acted bored and couldn’t wait to get back to the bar where they exchanged loud jokes. It was very Saturday Night Fever but without John Travolta.

John's: A void to avoid
John’s: A void to avoid