Sunday, October 30, 2005: A Memorial & Wake in Old New York

At the crack of dawn - actually, shortly before it, I think - Carrie and I drove up to SeaTac and caught the place to New York.  It's her first visit, and she's really looking forward to it.  I tried to work on the plane, but ultimately slept most of the day.  As we arrived, Bradley Eros called, and asked whether we would attend the memorial for filmmaker Mark Lapore at the Museum of Modern Art at 6pm.  It was only 4, so we took the train straight there, and arrived just in time.  I didn't know Mark Lapore well, but admire his films immensely and always looked forward to seeing him at festivals.  The event was somber, and awkward in the way that memorials always seem to be.  More so, because it felt much like attending any other screening, a happy occasion for socializing.  But when Mark McElhatten gave his brief, very moving introduction, and as the movies started, it became clear just how right a memorial and testament the screening was.  As McElhatten said, Lapore was there in his movies - I felt again like I was looking at a mysterious and curiously familiar world though his eyes.  The program included A Depression in the Bay of Bengal, which along with The Glass System is among my favorites of his films.  Every image is an exquisite tableau, and a record of human experience.  That's what made him among my favorite documentarians.  Like Robert Gardner (especially in Forest of Bliss), Lepore presented images of human life, without judging the world those people inhabited.  That requires a rare kind of humility.  And one especially rare among artists.  Until now, I had no idea Lapore was born in Tacoma.  All the more reason to show his films back in Olympia.
After the memorial, Carrie and I took the train to Marie's apartment in Greenpoint, where we were staying.  Marie was in Mexico City helping to shoot a film on the Day of the Dead, and she kindly lent us her place.  It was odd to be back in my old neighborhood so soon after leaving.  It felt the same, and yet no longer like home, somehow.  Usually New York changes so fast.  This time, I'd changed even faster.  I took Carrie to Diner for dinner.  It's one of my favorite restaurants in New York.  Probably as much for the associations as the food.  But the food is good.  Especially the pork chop, which was a happy compromise, on finding they were out of steak (it was late).  Best I've ever had - and I'm a lapsed jew - and Carrie nicked quite a good bit.  I consoled her with the observation that pork is, after all, "the other white meat."  She didn't buy it, but had several more pieces.  After dinner, we walked up Bedford to Galapagos for drinks, hoping people would be around.  And were they ever.  There at the end of the bar was Galya (pictured), Donal, and Jill.
In fact, it was Robert's birthday.  And the whole bar was celebrating.  Can't believe I forgot.  But then, I've never been any good with birthdays.  It's all I can do to remember my girlfriend's.
It was Karaoke night, and everyone was dancing.  As I recall, Donal was dancing here.  Or maybe it was just a pose.
In any case, Carrie was sporadically compelled to leap off her stool and start dancing.  Especially when someone did a Michael Jackson song.  Surprisingly, many of the singers were quite good, making dancing plausible.  And Carrie is quite good, especially with the 80s stuff.  Apparently, she's quite the breakdancer.  I haven't seen it, but I believe it by the way she moves.  Wish I could do that.  Instead of looking like Anthony Michael Hall.  Or maybe Long Duck Dong.
Eventually, there was a big happy birthday singalong for Robert.  Of the ghoulish variety, given the approach of Halloween.  The stage was packed, and Robert was grinning ear-to-ear.  Of course, that's pretty typical with him.  But still, he looked pretty happy.
Donal and I talked quite a bit.  It was really good to see him again.  I'm getting enthusiastic about interviews again, and we talked about doing one together, discussing Ocularis, the Galapagos-based film series he was instrumental in starting.
A lot of snapshot accompanied the revelry.
Someone produced a magnifying glass, which my own Inspectress Gadget put to good use.  I can't say much for the predictability of point & shoot digital cameras.  But if you shoot enough pictures, a few always seem to turn out ok.
Eventually, PC Elmes put the ixnay on the drinking and we all headed out.
We walked home, up Kent Avenue and Franklin Street.  And on the way, Carrie made a magic mushroom out of a fire hydrant.  All in all, an auspicious first night in NYC.