best day ever (picture parade)

I remember a lovely spring/summer day when I was off of work for a reason I can't remember (probably because my car was broken).  In any case, almost every time I have a weekday (that isn't Friday) off from work, I arrange to have lunch and a tour of the city I love with the man I love.  No, not Mister (though I do love him dearly) - my dad.  On this particular day in my memory, Dad and I had a light lunch and then went over to the National Constitution Center for a quick stroll.  My dad, in a moment of shock and awe about my ignorance to my own neighborhood, appalled that I could live near the most historical part of the country and not play tourist more frequently said the following:
"You need to get out more."

There's nothing like your dad telling you to get out more to drive home your reclusive tendencies.

So, [a little late] I took his advice.  I took yesterday off from work so I could enjoy my city and it was delightful!  Let's start the parade!

I can't remember exactly where this is (and I'm sure the owners of this home appreciate that), but it's somewhere on an east-west street in Society Hill if you want to go on a scavenger hunt.

I was super organized about my day off (anyone surprised?) because I wanted to be sure I packed as much PIFA goodness and "me time" into the daylight hours as possible - the night belonged to another terrific outing, but of a completely different nature.

Anyway, as I was walking along, the colorful window boxes and urns full of flowers caught my eye.  Please - look at those flowers - that's an understatement.  At first I felt funny standing outside someone's home taking pictures of their flowers, but then I decided that if they didn't want other people to enjoy them, they wouldn't have put them out in their "front yard" like that.

my sister was named after these delicate white blossoms

I was passing by on my way toward Washington Square, which is becoming quite green and beautiful.  I must admit, I love the Square in the winter, when the trees are bare and establish an incredible contrast against fallen snow, but the Square really is gorgeous in every season.

On the southeast corner of the square sits Locks Gallery.  I've passed this building hundreds of times but since I work odd hours, it's always been closed.  I honestly had no idea whether it was a really fancy hair salon ("locks"?  why not?) or an actual art gallery.  Turns out it is the latter and they are hosting an exhibit of surreal art as part of PIFA: The Insolent Eye - Jarry in Art

If you maximize and/or squint at this photo, you can see that the building was erected only 7 years after we established ourselves as an independent country.  I think that's pretty darn cool.

I also think these chairs are pretty darn cool and would love to have one in my home.  I wonder what one would need to do to get one (besides steal it or become an overnight millionaire).  It looks like you're sitting on a cello.

Honestly, that was probably my favorite part of the gallery, and it was just a chair in an educational room - not part of the exhibit.  I don't actually like surrealism, aside from my love of David Lynch movies, but that's quite a different thing.  I just figured I'd stop in on my way to the exhibit I was totally psyched about, hosted by the Athenaeum, on the eastern side of the Square.

approaching the Athenaeum

I love the architectural details of this building.  Not too coincidentally, the exhibit hosted as part of PIFA deals with French influence on Philadelphia's architecture.  Bastille to Broad Street is a beautiful and very educational exhibit that I strongly encourage all residents of this fine city to attend - for heaven's sake, it's free - you have nothing to lose.

I love Philadelphia's buildings.  I love the juxtaposition of old and new mixed throughout the city, especially in my little radius of "home," which roughly includes Queen Village, Society Hill/Independence Mall, and Old City.  Being the eastern-most neighborhoods, it makes sense that they are also the oldest and most historically rich neighborhoods in the city.  I could spend hours (and I have) just wandering around my neighborhood and looking at the old buildings, or the 18th century home just next to the modern, urban, severe townhouse built at the turn of the 21st century.

For another tour of my neighborhood, click here.

After delighting myself with tales of the Eastern State Penitentiary being modeled after the Bastille and the Champs-Elysees providing inspiration for Benjamin Franklin Parkway, connecting the Art Museum to City Hall, I headed over to the Kimmel Center for a little music and a light lunch.

I haven't been to the Kimmel Center as many times since it opened in 2001 as I have been in the past month.  Nevertheless, I believe I will miss the Eiffel Tower and its little airborne city of planes and trains (representing the foremost technology and innovation in the early part of the 20th century in France).  It takes such a nice picture.

What I came for, though, was the promise of a lunchtime piano concert.  I had no idea what to expect - it could be jazz for all I knew - but I wanted to watch someone other than my students play.  Turns out I couldn't possibly have gone on a better day.  I stopped to get some coffee in the plaza and nearly spilled it in my mad dash over to the small performance area when I heard someone that wasn't me playing my favorite Chopin Nocturne (E minor).  I have never heard anyone else play that tune and I think I held my breath almost the whole time.  That hooked me, obviously, and I remained to watch Larisa Kifyak play some of my favorite melodies on a gorgeous Steinway & Sons grand piano. 

After a decent cup of coffee and 90 minutes of auditory bliss, I decided to investigate the ladies' room on the lower level of the Kimmel.  Immaculately clean, as I expected it would be, the design was also surprisingly modern.  Although the Kimmel itself certainly departs from the Academy with its geometric shapes and clean lines, the restroom still made me feel as though I'd left the concert hall in favor of a hip, urban night club/bar.  I thought the mirrors were neat (circles with a ring of light around them) and as I was checking myself out, I noticed the light was making a killer reflection in my eyes, so I decided to snap a picture.  I'm glad no one came in - they probably would have thought I'd lost my mind.

I left the Kimmel and continued west, toward Rittenhouse Square.  On my way to the Rosenbach Museum, I passed a small coffee shop with the following boastful sign:

If you don't know why it's awesome to have Stumptown coffee in Philadelphia, please pay Jess a visit at Get Sconed!

I visited the Rosenbach and was enlightened, captivated, and inspired by their exhibit on James Joyce in Paris.  Think me an ignoramus if you must, but I have not been all that familiar with him.  I hope to change that going forward, especially when I learned of the great admiration F. Scott Fitzgerald (one of my favorite authors) had for him.  This is the only exhibit I had to pay for and I'll tell you - I got my $10-worth.  Go.

I stopped into Williams Sonoma for some Easter presents for my nephews, one of whom drew this beautiful picture:

I think it's called "Mommy (L) and Aunt Natalie (R) go shopping"

Anyway, after all of those adventures, I came home and made an early dinner, since Mister and I had exciting evening plans.  It was a little mind-blowing to cook and eat dinner when the sun was still up, but the flavor of Isa's 2nd Avenue Vegetable Korma from Appetite for Reduction certainly distracted us.

It didn't photograph terribly well, which is bound to be the case when part of the cooking process involves boiling the veggies for about 10 minutes.  They tasted great, though, and the jasmine rice thirstily absorbed the excess broth before Mister could get too upset about it.

After dinner, we polished ourselves off a bit and then headed up to the Trocadero to see a fabulous band from just across the [Delaware] river - Symphony X. 

Some friends of ours were in two of the three opening bands, so it was nice to see them and talk to them, but we went for Symphony X and were not disappointed.  They put on a far better show than I anticipated - the frontman is huge and has quite a presence, not to mention, he can really sing.  They played a lot of our favorite songs (which isn't hard when most songs are our favorite songs), including a 25 minute long encore that was a single "song," The Odyssey.  As you can probably imagine, it tells the tale of Homer's Odyssey and it is as epic as the piece of literature upon which it's based - after all, it's too long to post on YouTube in one piece!

It was a fabulous day, full of Me time and Me-n-Mister time...I was walking on air and slept like the dead.  Believe me, much like the day after the Gala, it was an epic struggle to go to work today.  Every time I passed a PIFA poster, I just wanted to turn around and play hooky.  Please do yourselves a favor, if you live in the Philadelphia area (and by that I mean, within a 6 hour drive), spend a day doing PIFA stuff before it ends on May 1st.  See the website for a full listing of events, but please, GO!

lightning strikes twice

How much of a let-down do you suppose it was for Cinderella to go back to her drab work-clothes and mundane life after the night at the ball?  Never really thought of it, did you?  We just assume she "knew her place" and when the ball ended, she resumed her day-to-day Normal without a second thought.

I don't think that's how it happened.

Imagine, if you will, a grand ballroom, with a glass ceiling 150 feet high.  Wide Grand stairways flank the North and South sides of an expansive plaza, leading to groups of tables for dining and enchanting fellow guests.  The tables are decked elaborately in shades of fuchsia and tangerine with small iridescent beads on the tassles of seat cushions, an array of gilded wine glasses and fine white china surrounding a centerpiece of well over a dozen similarly colored roses.  In fact, there are so many guests at the ball that seating goes up two more levels from the grand ballroom floor, on wide balconies overlooking the center of a near-celestial space.  Only slightly offset from the middle of all this is an 80-foot tall light sculpture, which "dances" to the rhythm of music pumped through the hall by invisible musicians.

Look around; everywhere you look are men in stiff black suits and impossibly white shirts.  On their arms, a variety of ladies both elegant and homely.  You can hear the rustle of satin and taffeta as they move, although some make no sound at all but move ethereally through the room with flowing chiffon and silk on feet that barely touch the floor.  A jewelry box of colored cloth, here and there the glint of a diamond that caught the last rays of sunlight, and the heady scent of a perfume jungle envelope your senses and transport you to a nearly magical place where you feel time almost stops existing.

Where is this magical place?  Broad and Spruce.  The Kimmel Center.

Last night was the opening night Gala for the Philadelphia International Festival of the Arts (PIFA), held at the Kimmel Center.  As I mentioned a short bit ago, I was blessed to be chosen for the opportunity to help out with this event, thereby scoring free admission to an event other people were paying $750 to attend (and that's before the fancy dress, shoes, and tux).

In addition to the lovely (huge) flower arrangements all over the place (I wouldn't have thought to combine peachy-pink roses with canary forsythia, but I guess that's why I'm not a floral designer), there was a troup of performance artists to greet gala-goers as they entered Commonwealth Plaza, which has been "redecorated" with a Parisian theme.  There was a mime and a 7 foot tall juggler as well as two performers on stilts (the juggling dude was not on stilts), but my favorite was a flower.

It looks a little creepy and a little fruity all rolled up into one chartreuse bodysuit, but this was really something to behold.  The artist was dressed in a total bodysuit - even his face was covered - and then wrapped in this blue flower-body.  He moved very slowly and with surreal balance as he repeatedly "bloomed" and then withdrew.

There were 800 attendees at the gala and some of the dresses were just fabulous - I saw one young lady in a form-fitting gold satin mermaid gown.  She looked stunning.  One of the organizers of the gala was enchanting in a floor-length, off-the-shoulder, princess-cut lavender gown.  There were plenty of gorgeous jewel tones in silk dupioni and chiffon charmeuse - crimson with shades of black, emerald green and sapphire blue, with the occasional pleated silver or shimmery beige satin making an appearance.

One woman's dress stood out above the rest, though.  I could tell this was a woman of great wealth.  Clearly, she was the kind of woman who could go into a taylor and pick out her favorite fabric with precise instructions as to the design of her dress and that is what she would leave with.  No one would argue with her.

Even if they really should have told her that was tapestry material, intended by its manufacturer for thick drapes, rather than floor-length mandarin-inspired ball gowns.

Anyway, after we (the volunteers) got everyone signed in and gave them their golden tickets, handed over with a charming and sparkling smile each and every time, it was time to herd everyone into the main theatre for a performance of Falla's The Three-Cornered Hat by the Philadelphia Orchestra.  I was thrilled to find myself seated in the fourth row of the first Tier - completely unobstructed view of the stage from one of the three center sections.  I have always preferred to see the orchestra from the balcony/first tier because when you're on the stage level you can only see the front of the orchestra - the first violins, the cellos, and the conductor.  From the upper levels, you can look over the whole group - I love watching the timpanist.

At the conclusion of the Orchestra's performance, everyone squeezed back out into the lobby area for a short intermission.  The Plaza was kept relatively low-lit, but the 80-foot-tall replica of the Eiffel Tower was faintly glowing, a promise of what would be a spectacular light show just before dinner.

Me (Right) with the other volunteers from my company

That picture was taken by the CEO's assistant - the CEO and several other execs were actually there as guests (since our company is one of the sponsors, after all).  Directly after the picture was taken, the CFO approached our merry little group, but then spoke directly to me, wondering if I had seen my friend who was also in attendance with her family.  Turned out the CFO and a VP (and his beautiful blond wife) were in the box right next to where my friend and her family were seated.  We were mutually acquainted through this family, but what happened next floored me.

"I have an extra ticket if you'd like to join us in the box."

Excuse me?

Talk about being in the right place at the right time...  I smiled and left my three colleagues standing there catching flies as I accompanied the CFO back to the box and greeted my friend.  The seats were incredible - I couldn't have been closer to the stage if I was sitting on it.  I was so close that I was making eye contact with the dancers.

The Pennsylvania Ballet, accompanied by the Philadelphia Orchestra and three soloists (tenor, bass, and mezzo-soprano), put on a stunning performance of Stravinsky's Pulcinella.  I could see every muscle move as these strong, powerful bodies floated and flew across the stage.  I have long admired the strength of ballet dancers and you can really see it when you're that close - I could barely breathe.  A long time ago, in another lifetime, I went to the ballet almost every other month.  Our seats were in the middle of the parquet, which is the floor level.  I prefer to see the dancers that close or closer so I can fully appreciate the work they have put into their movement.  I never dreamed I would see the ballet quite that close, though.

I fear I may be spoiled now and this is an expensive vice.

After the performance, I headed back out to help steer gala-goers toward their elegantly appointed tables for their Wolfgang Puck-created dinner.  Once everyone had taken their seats, Mayor Michael Nutter took the stage and flipped a giant switch to activate the Eiffel Tower, which sprung to life as music played throughout the plaza.  Please pardon the fuzziness - the lights were "moving."

After dinner, and just before dessert, there was a performance by Grounded Aerial, a New York-based acrobatic troup.  As gala-goers looked on from their seats on the plaza level and first two tiers, these artists rappelled down the side of the theatre in which we had just seen the orchestra and ballet moments before.  They performed some kind of aerial pantomime as they repeated scaled the wall (four stories high) and "fell" back down again. 

It was kind of thrilling for the first minute or two, but after that, I have to admit, they were just rappelling.

Once their show had finished, the grand presentation of dessert occurred.  In orientation, we had been promised something quite grand, but no hints were given, just a little tease.  Warning: this picture sucks, but maybe if you click on it to blow it up full-sized, you'll be able to make it out.

Two-tiered silver dessert trays were adorned with colorful macaroons and chocolate decadence and delivered to each table in a "hot air balloon."  It was really a sight to behold.  Unfortunately, my flash appears to actually make things darker when I use it.  Even more unfortunately, my camera battery died immediately after I snapped this picture.  So, like I said, click on it to maximize and then squint.

It was an incredible experience that I hope to repeat in the future...as a guest.  Since I just got my "merit" increase at work, I figured out that if I save the $30 more per paycheck that I am now getting, I should be able to afford one ticket for next year's gala.

Speaking of work....I know I have them to thank for this opportunity, but it was SO HARD to go in today.  After an enchanted evening of jewel tones and gilded glassware, skilled artists and ethereal dancers, not to mention a new chunk of bling with which I decorated my wrist, today was just gray and mundane.  Such a disappointment.  I just want to live in PIFA - I'll be a PIFA Princess!

So yeah, I don't think Cinderella felt quite the same about her rags and broom the day after the ball... I'm pretty sure she breathed a huge sigh of relief when Prince Charming came to rescue her from her pail and mop.

fake it 'til you make it

Through some incredible stroke of luck, I finally managed to find myself in the right place at the right time.  Just so you know, that person is never me.  I'm the one holding the lotto ticket that is just one digit off from winning.  I'm the one who gets to the party after everyone is drunk.  I'm the one who walks out of my front gate just in time to see the bus fly by.

This time, though, I had something on my side.  It's fairly well-known at work that I couldn't possibly care less about sports unless someone paid me to care less.  Instead, I enjoy "the finer things," and long for a subscription to the Orchestra or the Ballet.  It just so happens that the CEO of our company is on the Board at the Kimmel Center, a huge performing arts venue in Philadelphia.  It just so happens that the Kimmel Center is hosting the amazing opening night gala for the Philadelphia International Festival of the Arts (PIFA).  It just so happens they needed some volunteers and it turned into a great opportunity for the CEO to send some over...which turned into a great opportunity (read: chance of a lifetime) for me to attend a black tie gala people are paying $750 to attend, completely free, aside from my obligations to help herd people.

While wearing an evening gown.
While seeing a joint performance by the Philadelphia Orchestra, one of the best in the world, with the Pennsylvania Ballet, for the first time in the history of the venue.  (as a side note, I've been fortunate to work for both organizations.)
While eating a dinner catered by Wolfgang Puck in honor of Georges Perrier (of Le Bec-Fin fame).

I live for this stuff.  So, when people say to me, "Oh, you got volunteered, eh?" I just smile.

Today I got to leave work early because I had to attend volunteer orientation.  According to the fine folks at the Kimmel Center, ordinarily they just do a quick briefing a half hour before an event, but since this is kind of a big deal (800 confirmed attendees, plus people who are only attending the concert, plus cocktail hour under an 80-foot tall replica of the Eiffel Tower strung with lights) they wanted to be a little more organized.  They had a pretty little spread of stinky French cheeses (Paris is the theme) with strawberries and grapes, alongside bottles of Perrier.  I could get used to this.  They also gave us "party favors"

Chocolate Eiffel Tower on a stick.  Yes.

In addition to this incredible privilege, I also got to leave work after only a half day in order to ensure I had plenty of time to get to the Kimmel Center.  The venue is conveniently located about 11 blocks from my home, so another great thing about today (and next week, when the actual event occurs) is that I got home early since I had a noticeably shorter commute.

Obviously, I took advantage of this opportunity to cook something time-consuming and intricate for dinner, instead of heating up the leftovers dominating our refrigerator.

No.  Actually, I took the opportunity to "enhance" our leftovers of Sicilian Market Pasta with an incredible find from Superfresh.  In a perfectly ironic move, Superfresh has packaged up produce they deem to be defective in some manner - rotting, or otherwise past its prime - and sell it for a dollar.  If a person was in need of tomatoes so ripe they were about to rot and needed a layer of plastic wrap to keep the flies away, this would be a tremendous bargain.

What luck!  I needed perfectly ripe tomatoes tonight!  So for one measly dollar, I brought home 6 perfect-for-sauce vine-ripened tomatoes and turned them into a very flavorful sauce with the help of some olive oil and my magic Tuscan Seasoning from California.  While I had only planned to get the tomatoes, I ended up with what looks like a perfectly fine bundle of tiny potatoes, perfect for roasting, also $1 and two heads of not-brown-yet iceberg lettuce for another $1.  Let's total that up:  6 tomatoes, about a dozen potatoes, and two heads of lettuce for....drum roll, please....$3.

Talk about being in the right place at the right time.