Laisser les bon temps rouler

Whoa, it’s March. And Mardi Gras!

Love is in the air. The Tibet House concert last Friday at Carnegie Hall was great: an fun evening of music and peace and love. Rufus sang “Grey Gardens” (from Poses) and one of many unreleased compositions, “Agnus Dei,” which he hopes to work into a complete classical Mass at some point. The concert had quite a line-up: David Bowie, Lou Reed, Laurie Anderson, Angelique Kidjo, et al.

I met up with fellow message board members, old and new (please indulge my Romper Room-like interlude): Tom and his friend Mary, Corinne, Doug, Lou, Lauren, Gail and her husband, and Micah and his mom. A number of us stayed at the Park Central Hotel, and our restaurant of choice was Cafe Europa, both just a block from Carnegie Hall.

Artful dodging. On Saturday morning, Tom, Mary, and I went for a walk into still slightly snow-covered Central Park and strolled about Strawberry Fields. Continuing on, we stopped at the New York Historical Society and spent some time with the masterworks collection of 19th-century paintings.

About mid-day, we parted ways and I went off to meet Stefanie. Our plan to see the Matisse Picasso exhibit at the MoMA was foiled by the need for advance tickets, so we decided instead to go gallery hopping in Chelsea. I had so much fun feeding my mind, which had been starved for art. Here are some of my favorite exhibits:

Alex Kanevsky at J. Cacciola Gallery. Impressionistic hints of Degas, and yet very clean and modern. Lots of pale blues and rich, dark browns.

Simon Periton’s “Premonitions” at Gorney Bravin + Lee. Large, highly intricate paper cutouts.

Catherine Sullivan’s “Five Economies (big hunt/little hunt)” at Metro Pictures. A two-part work involving staged photographs and video.

Al Souza (amazing work with intricate jigsaw puzzles) and Christina Ray (integration of photographs and glass into larger somewhat surreal images) at Charles Cowles Gallery.

The highlight of the afternoon was a celeb sighting at the Gagosian Gallery. I glanced towards the doorway and saw a dog, so I looked up, and who should be holding the leash but actor extraordinaire Alan Cumming! Stef and I stared from afar for a bit, and then, not wanting to interrupt his conversation, scooted past him. My brush with greatness was literal—I maneuvered closely and with seeming insouciance my coat grazed the sleeve and back of his fur-trim-hooded parka. Stef and I wandered to another room which held an admittedly interesting video exhibit, but unable to contain our starstruck glee, we returned to where Mr. Cumming stood and spied upon him from behind a large, pink Franz West sculpture as if it were a tree. Fabulous.

Winding down. Stef and I capped the afternoon with a bite to eat at a nearby cafe, where I had a wonderful quiche lorraine, and we went our separate ways. Left to my own devices, I made my usual pilgrimage to the H&M on Fifth Avenue, though I didn’t end up buying anything, and then checked out the MoMA Design Store, which has lots of cool and quirky stuff. I had deliberated over taking in a show, but by now, though I was deliriously content, I was also sleepy and my feet were killing me. At about 6 p.m., I headed down to Penn Station, and took the next train home. The end.