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Posts Tagged ‘Central Park’

Shakespeare in the Park is one of the things I look forward to most about NYC summers. The Public Theater, one of the most reputable companies in NY, offers FREE world class theater every year in Central Park. Yes, I did say FREE. You just have to wait in line for tickets. They are distributed on a first-come-first-serve basis at 1PM for the evening performance.

shakespeareline

The infamous line for Shakespeare in the Park tickets

This ticket distribution is notorious. Many New Yorkers who might attend a play otherwise, are deterred by the reputation of the line. Many believe you must camp out in line in order to get tickets, arriving to Central Park at dawn. This myth is based on truth. The Public’s productions often headline stars- most recently Al Pachino in Merchant of Venice and Anne Hathaway in Twelfth Night. With an A-list star and killer reviews, camping out will become the reality. But don’t despair! It is easy to get tickets if you know how to do it. My first job in New York was working as an usher at the Delacorte Theater, the performance space of Shakespeare in the Park. Here are my tips for getting tickets:

  1. See a preview. After a show opens (and usually gets good reviews) it’s on many more to-do lists. If you can go to the show before it gets reviewed (that’s what a “preview” is) you may not have to wait in line at all. Often for the first week-day performances you can literally walk up at 1PM or even 8PM and get tickets. No waiting at all. If you can only go on weekends, previews are your easiest bet. 
  2. Go on a weeknight! If your work schedule allows it, see a Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday night show. Weekends are much harder to get tickets for.
  3. Try the virtual line! Now in it’s 3rd year (I believe) there is now have a virtual line! The solution for 9-5ers and any one who can’t be in Central Park at 1PM on a weekday. To enter this way, visit the website in the morning, sign up, enter for that day’s show, cross your fingers, and the check back after 1PM. Get your friends to enter for you. I’ve had good luck with this!
  4. Don’t be afraid of the stand-by line! Another great way to score tickets if the 1PM time is impossible for you is the stand-by line. Pack a picnic, bring a thermos of your after-work beverage of choice, and multi-task. You’re enjoying a fabulous picnic in the park AND waiting for tickets at the same time! Unless the show is Al-Pachino-popular, you should be fine getting in this line after work- around 5:30/6.
  5. Questionable weather can be your ticket in. They do everything possible to avoid a rained out show. There may be a rain shower moments before the show, but unless there is thunder and lightning, the show is likely to still go on. If it’s a popular show, this can really help you out because loads of people with tickets will not show up. Even if you show up at 8PM, it’s likely you’ll get in! Just bring a poncho because they don’t allow umbrellas up in the theater. I once had to tell Mary Louise Parker to put her’s down!
dawnline

Last summer I was out of town during previews of “Into the Woods” featuring a-lister Amy Adams. Unable to follow most of my rules (although I did go on a weekday!) Charlotte and I showed up at 5AM to wait for tickets! With a friend and a thermos of coffee, the line can actually be fun.

2013 features two comedies. The Comedy of Errors runs May 28- June 30. I’m seeing the May 29th preview and I can’t wait!  Director Daniel Sullivan has delivered the Public’s most recent knock-out performances including the aforementioned Twelfth Night and Merchant of Venice.  I have no doubt it’s going to be a great show. Both Sullivan and The Public are known for making Shakespeare accessible and with a run-time of only 90 mins, there is all the more reason everyone should see this show.

Love’s Labour’s Lost: A New Musical is the second show of the season running July 23-August 18. A new musical adaptation of one of Shakespeare’s first plays, my expectations are high for this production as well. I don’t know exactly what to expect, but coming from the creators of Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson I have no doubt it’ll be awesome. Again with a run-time of 90 mins, I’m calling this now as one of the must-see shows of the summer. Heed my advice and see it during previews!

So mark your calendars now, previews start in 10 days! Remember you can bring refreshments into the Delacorte seats- even alcohol as long as it’s not in a glass bottle. Get ready for a summer of fantastic FREE theater! If you don’t live in NYC, plan a visit! Okay, of course that’s not always possible. Please look into what summer theatre your town has to offer- I’m willing to bet you’ll find something.

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It finally feels like spring! The temperature hovering around 70°, flowers in bloom, and leaves popping out on trees. Everyone in NYC wants to be outside today. Even high-profile celebrities.

bigbirdandelmo

Ok fine, celebrity impersonators. On a walk in Central Park and these fellas just kept popping up in where ever I went! They made me smile. Almost as much as seeing the Easter Bunny skating at Rockefeller Center.

elmo&bigbird

It’s a New York cliché: step outside and you’ll see something new. Nothing is ever ordinary in this city. Extraordinary is our routine. Days like today make me want to proudly wear an I ♥ NY shirt. But, cringing at the thought of being thought a tourist, I’m too vain to do it!
And that’s enough computer time- I’m off to enjoy this lovely day! Hope you do the same!

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March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.

This cliché needs an update. I propose: March comes in like your uncle (the one who drinks too much and the rest of the family suspects he’s bipolar) and goes out like your aunt (the one who got you the best birthday presents and always bakes pies when you visit). Thursday night was a rough one for Uncle March. Cocktail hour had barely begun but he was already in a right state. Rants of icy cold slush spewing from his mouth, tirades against warmth brought to life with wind and vigor. He didn’t slow down all evening. As I walked home, the weepy state of inebriation commenced as rain drops splattered my coat. The next morning dirty piles of snow made us all want to get out of bed late. Sudden movements were difficult and loud noises forbidden.

Then Saturday it was glorious. Warm and sunny, beautiful on a level of inspiring grand works of art. Bipolar, Uncle March, that is the diagnosis. It was the first day in ages where I could stand the thought of being outside for any period of time. So I did what any New Yorker would do, I went for a walk. In Central Park.
icecreamtrumpIt was a struggle to take the subway. My sun-starved skin screamed, “No! Don’t take me underground!” Fortunately it was a short subway ride. When I emerged from the depths of the transit system I was greeted by this site: an ice cream truck, a pink one no less. I may have jumped up and down with glee.
everyonein CPThe whole city wanted to be outside. We are all so starved for spring, we get ecstatic about the first day the temperature tips over 50º. It’s a city in transition and with bipolar March, winter to spring is not a smooth one. Every outfit from t-shirt short sleeves to heavy down coats was present in the park. Which makes sense when you have green grass and intermittent snow bathed in sunshine.
snowpileNot enough to make a snow man, but enough to clean my shoes when they got all muddy.
treesnow

I’m hoping for the first leaf buds by Saint Patrick’s Day. If memory serves, this is well with in the realm of possibility. But I don’t want to get carried away. Some building on Park Avenue already planted spring flowers. The poor pansies looked miserable having endured the snow. The contrast of spring flowers and Christmas tree lights also made me smile.
P1030318I cannot wait. For flowers and picnics and bare legs and sandals and sidewalk seating and color! and warmth! We are so close to Aunt March and all her goodness. But until then, who knows. That crazy uncle might have another episode.
snowpatchpark

Are you as anxiously awaiting spring as I am?

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Stuffing yourself on Thanksgiving: it’s all-American. I’d suggest it’s an all-American cliché. When the menu consists of butter-herb turkey (didn’t even wish it was chicken), mashed potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, green beans, and sweet potato casserole portion control is frowned upon. It couldn’t have been much more traditional or delicious. Do we stop there? It’d be entirely unAmerican! Because there is nothing more American than apple pie. Oh boy was there pie: pumpkin, peanut butter, chocolate, eggnog cheesecake, and I had to sample each one, with whipped cream on top.

The waistband of my dress was a tight when I waddled out the door. Having feasted in Queens and chosen to wear shoes that pinched my feet (they’re fabulous and new, I pray I just need to break them in), walking home was not an option. I hopped on the subway and once home promptly hopped into bed, drifting to sleep on a cloud of tryptophan.

I awoke Friday morning and felt fat. Yep, a girl cliché! Instead of whining and feeling sorry for myself, I laced up shoes that don’t pinch my feet and set out on a five mile walk. I started at 42nd Street hoping to catch a walking tour. Arriving 20 minutes late (oops), no such luck. Instead, I made my way through the sea of shoppers on 5th Avenue, soon crossing to 6th Avenue where there was more room to breath. Salvation Army bell ringers, store front windows, decorations around buildings- Christmas was coming at me from all directions. It felt odd in the perfect fall weather- a sunny 55 degrees- to still see snowflakes of all shapes and sizes. Fall gets a horendous truncation in my book. I hold on to summer until the very last moment of September 20th, a month later, it’s the day after Halloween and Starbucks is playing “Let It Snow”.

As Central Park came into view, I knew I’d come to the right place. Nature knows it’s still autumn! Brightly colored leaves against the striking blue sky, it was the perfect fall day. I know we’re all excited about Christmas, but I haven’t eaten enough butternut squash soup yet. It was glorious to just walk through the park and savor the present (meaning NOW not GIFT) season.

I was not alone in my stroll. Thousands of others were in the park taking advantage of the beautiful weather. So many people inhabit this city, stacked on top of each other, that it’s impossible to ever actually be alone. Yet New York is a notoriously lonely city. Feeling lonely but never being alone is truly a phenomenon, however oxymoronic, a New York cliché. I know enjoy alone time more than most people. I will happily go for a walk with just my thoughts for company. But on this day after Thanksgiving, seeing all the families and couples in the park, I experienced rare pangs of loneliness.

I had no headphones, no music to accompany my walk. I soon realized I’d even forgotten my cellphone- a feeling of simultaneous freedom and solitude. When was the last time you went on a walk without these distractions? I felt brave- so many of my generation are afraid of silence and their own thoughts. Not that it’s ever silent in New York. I eavesdropped on some fun conversations- a group of women discussing their figures (“You went through a really skinny phase, Justine.” “Yeah, when I was running marathons!) who confirmed the “I feel fat” post-Turkey Day cliché. A little girl whining at the park’s entrance: “I don’t want to go in there!” “Why not?” “It’s a scary forest!” That’s a true New York native. The best sounds of my walk? The crunching of leaves.

I was shocked and pleased to see boats still on the lake. This is something I meant to do all summer, and never did. For a second I thought to myself, “Go now! Get a boat all by yourself! Otherwise, chances are you’ll be waiting ’til next spring.” I didn’t do it. I can’t imagine a situation more lonely than being stranded in the middle of a body of water, struggling to maneuver a row-boat all by myself, wishing I had a man with strong arms to man my ors.

I turn into a little kid around autumn leaves. I’ll shuffle through piles that collect in the street gutters, even though it’s dangerous (you never know what could be lurking under the leaves!). I love the sound and the feeling as they scatter around my shoes. You don’t get leaves like this in California. It’s my ninth (WOW) east coast fall but I’m still making up for 18 years sans foliage. Another thing about solitary walks? There’s no one to take pictures of my back. It’s too weird to ask strangers, nor advisable to turn my back on my camera. Instead I took self portraits of my feet in the leaves. Like my polka dot tights?

I saw a lot of cute couples on my walk. I’ve been on a break from dating for almost six months in an effort to figure some things out (cliché!). Maybe it’s the holiday season, maybe it’s because I have figured a thing or two out, I want to be one of those cute couples. Have I figured enough out to not pick the wrong man for once? I’m hopeful.

The last time I went for a long walk in the park was in the spring (remember?). There are some big changes between the park in these seasons, the most surprising one was the drained model boat pond on the east side as you can see in these photos.

The most beautiful changes were obvious.

This lovely scene at the Conservatory Gardens really made me miss my family. A little girl leans on her mom as they sit on a bench admiring the pink and yellow flowers that form a circle around the fountain. The three frolicking ladies of the fountain made me think of my three best friends, who I call my sisters, all in San Francisco for the holiday. When I got home, I was greeted by text messages from each of them, sent around the time I took this photograph. There was also a picture in my inbox of our moms hanging out together. Perfect. I hadn’t thought about family on Thanksgiving, wanting to avoid that feeling of missing. This walk was the perfect time to feel those feelings. I let them simmer, wistfully smiled, and felt so thankful for my wonderfully supportive family: parents, aunts, and uncles. And sisters. Love.

I got to the top of the park and realized I should have collected leaves along my walk. Why didn’t I think about that at 59th Street!? I picked up a bright orange leaf only to discover some sort of city sludge on the bottom side of it. New York cliché #253. Collecting pictures of leaves is just fine.

I got my fall closure (I can embrace Christmas now instead of muttering it’s too early!), crunched a lot of leaves, felt lonely in a way that made me give thanks for being a human with feelings (…if that makes sense… let’s just say I’ve squashed feelings down recently and it’s no good. I want to feel- good and bad), and appreciated my family- something I don’t do enough. My Black Friday was the most colorful Friday I’ve had in some time.

Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving! I am thankful that I can share my thoughts with you. So much thanks.

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It was a beautiful day in Central Park. Sunny, blue skies, warm. I was walking by Bethesda Fountain, one of the oldest and renowned public works in New York.

Off-set by pink flowers, on the south side a raucous group of street performers in red had gathered a crowd, the angel in the middle seemed to be watching their routine as well.

I walked around the fountain, looking at the boats on the pond. Boating in Central Park is high on my list of NYC to-dos. It looks like so much fun and is surprisingly cheap- $12 for the first hour then $3 for each additional 15 minutes. Take note gentlemen- this is a swoon-worthy date idea.

I looked across the pond at the people in the boats, wishing I had someone to go boating with. Couples and families looked so peaceful, separated from the break-neck speed of the rest of the city. A leisurely ride, each moment enjoyed rather than a power rush to a destination.  I stood at the edge of the pond, watching a little child feed the ducks and several Italian tourists marvel over turtles.

I left the pond’s edge, headed towards the east side of the park. The crowded cheered for the street performers who had finished a series of acrobatic tricks. I turned my head away from them, and my eyes met these ladies.

Were they like me, wishing they had grooms to boat with?  Were they part of some stunt, a promotion? Were they waiting for their husbands to finish watching the street performers? I saw no tuxedo-ed men in the area. I didn’t approach them for, as the picture illustrates, they weren’t exactly approachable. So I’ll never know what their deal was! What do you think??

On another note, Happy Fourth of July!

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New Yorkers have a different view on privacy than the rest of the country. We may never say hello to our neighbors, but we’re heard them intimately through the thin wall that separates our apartments. When my neighbor gets a phone call, I feel it vibrations. We generally just accept (and try not to think about) the fact that those across the air shaft have seen us naked in a state of undress. On a crowded 8AM subway, we are closer to strangers than chaperones allow at a Catholic school dance.  There’s not enough space in the city for privacy.

It’s wedding season. How many weddings do you have on your calendar? In NYC, it is exceedingly difficult to have a private, intimate ceremony. To brides tying the knot in Central Park, be prepared for about 6 million uninvited guests. The city, along with its inhabitants are your real wedding party- eclipsing your maid of honor, best man, even the bride herself.

I enjoy spotting brides and wedding parties around the city. They make a wedding seem more like part of life than the picture-perfect official wedding photos ever do.

Notice the juxtaposition between the hotdog stand, the bride and groom, and the shirt-less dude.

I love the classic Central Park scene set here, with the portraitist, and the dedication of the maid of honor- attempting to save the brides dress. All New York City brides should know- the city street will leave the bottom of your dress dirty and gray.

The front view of the previous couple, also a great Central Park scene.

An engagement photo-shoot. On that photographer’s film, this moment will look intimate. Here it looks extremely public.

A perfect Central Park scene, wedding photo pose, and all the city dwellers surrounding it.

There’s just something about brides. The glowing energy, the radiant happiness on (hopefully) the most photogenic day of their lives just draws your eyes to them. That and the background of Central Park and I can’t help but snap a picture. Creepy? Maybe, but way less so than seeing your neighbor clipping his toe nails.

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Yes! And..” This is the first rule of improvisation. You accept your scene partner’s offer (for example: We’re bloggers updating our blog!) and build on it (Yes! And if we don’t post by the end of the day, New York City will collapse!) It’s teamwork, crucial to trusting your partner, and as long as you Yes! And.. your scene won’t suck.

Sounds easy enough. The problem is, especially as New Yorkers, we have the opposite utterly engrained in us: “No! Fuck off!” If we Yes! Anded the world, we would be conned, abused, and likely sold into human trafficking. Yes, but the concept of being open to saying yes isn’t a bad one, as long as you combine it with a healthy dose of street smarts. At the least you’ll end up with a better attitude. You may even end up with the prospect of a date and something remarkable to write about in your blog. Of course I speak from experience.

I was walking home through Central Park when I saw something out of the ordinary from all those other sitting in the park in the beautiful spring weather.

He was a friendly looking guy seated by a cardboard sign with the words “Free Listening” drawn on it. I couldn’t help but smile. We exchanged “Hellos” as I walked by him. I got about 10 yards before I stopped dead in my tracks. “You can’t just walk by a sign like that!” I thought to myself. “Yes! And.. I will turn around, talk to a stranger, and see what he’s about.”

“Well you caught my curiosity. I didn’t get too far. This is my double-take.” I said to the guy with the sign.

“Glad I caught your attention,” he smiled, “Thanks for stopping.” He was younger than me, likely still in school (yes, I learned, and he’s studying nutrition not psychology.)  Growing up in San Francisco and going to a small liberal arts college in Massachusetts, I have seen a lot of people with signs. Many of these sign holders are attention seeking: annoying at best, dangerous at worst, even if their sign is for a good cause. The sign holder seated in front of me was quite the opposite: calm, unthreatening, his demeanor inviting.

“So what’s this about?” I asked, an entirely unoriginal question, one he was asked no less than four times in the moments I stood talking to him. He just decided one day to sit in Central Park and offer his ear to anyone who wanted to take it. A lot of people just want someone who will listen, he’s a good listener, he made a sign, and there you go.  That’s the short of it. “Do you just listen, or do talk too?” I asked. The Listener laughed, “Sure, I talk.”

Perhaps surprising for an actress, though certainly not for a blogger, I much prefer writing down my stories to speaking them aloud. I was much more interested in hearing his story than telling him mine-I already know my stories. He tried several times to get me to a story, I mostly resisted and instead asked questions. He was quite obliging with answers.

He started sitting in the park with the sign summer 2011, really just for fun. The day I met him was the first time he’s sat in 2012. You will find him on weekends when the weather is nice. He doesn’t have a schedule, but he usually tweets his location (@thefreelistener). He generally sits by the south end of the park, he listens to a lot of runners and tourists. He’d never charge for listening. There is no “catch”. He doesn’t do it to pick up girls, to the dismay of some ladies. He’s never turned anyone down. Yes, he’s had some ranters and ravers. He listened to a guy who sat for an hour telling a string of one-liner jokes that got uncomfortably racist. Yes, he is sort of similar to the “Free Hugs” people, but he never invades personal space.

“Do you have a blog?” I asked. Of course I was thinking about blogging
“Not yet. Everyone tells me I should. I’ve been thinking about starting one.”
“You should. I’d read it. You’d have great stuff to write about. Though, I guess you couldn’t exactly blog about what people tell you. Is there listening confidentiality?”
“Haha, yes there is! That should be the fine print on my sign. Do you have a blog?”
Yes I do,” I said, “And I’m going to write about you in it, if that’s all right.”
“Go for it. What’s your blog about?”
He had me. You want to get me to talk? Just ask me about my blog. So I told him all about New York Cliché. He wrote down the URL and promised to check it out. I promised to follow him on Twitter.

We kept out promises.

Followed later by:

Newyorkcliche.com, inspiring bloggers (maybe just one) since April 8th.

I haven’t even reached the best part of this story. Stay tuned.

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