Hi!
Welcome to summer. Whaddaya know, it’s hot out there!
Despite the abundance of things to do in New York City, sometimes I just want a place to sit. One of my best insider-y New York City tips is that the Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum has a beautiful garden on 90th between 5th Avenue and Madison that is free and open to the public. Anyone can walk in through the gate and enjoy the space. They have benches tucked into the trees, tables and chairs with shade-providing umbrellas, and spinny seats for the kids. Even better there is a cafe with nibbles and wine (sadly not free lol), and even better better there.is.a.bathroom! It’s the perfect pit stop if you find yourself on the Upper East Side.
(Another one of my city secrets, courtesy of my mom: go into any hotel lobby and usually you will find a bathroom. Head towards the back or look for any steps leading downstairs. Walk like you own the place. And actually, I have one more tip! I recently discovered that big apartment building lobbies have bathrooms, too. You have to ask one of the doormen to use it (I assume it’s theirs), and I’m sure it helps if you have kids in tow, but if you’re really desperate, that’s an option. Just be nice!)
Ok, enough potty talk. This is an art and design newsletter. Back to the business at hand.
So I had a few minutes to myself this week and decided to head to the Cooper Hewitt to read before I had to go to the grocery store. One of the other great things about the garden is that it’s where a lot of the locals hang out, the older locals, I should say. And they are always up for a chat. (In fact, it’s where I first heard, from a man who’d lived nearby his entire life, that the neighborhood was going to get a Daily Provisions - the best all-day cafe in the city. He was right, and it’s opening in July, fingers crossed!)
This time, I overheard a woman greet a friend of hers and ask her if she’d been to Salon 94 yet. My interest was piqued. Was that a hair salon? I’m always in need of recommendations for a cut-and-color. I immediately Googled it and learned that Salon 94 is an art gallery in a landmarked townhouse (ok, mansion) around the corner at 3 East 89th. And it was open until 6 PM.
Reader, I was on my way.
It was breathtaking. It’s been a solemn start to summer, in some respects, with sad news seeping through. So I was immediately struck by the color and exuberance of the art. The joy that emanated from the walls. The gallery is showing an exhibit of works by Niki de Saint Phalle, a French-American sculptor and painter who is largely considered one of the most significant “outsider” artists (meaning she had no formal training) of the 20th century. As I wandered through the grand rooms toward the sound of running water, I was absorbed by the color, the large-scale moving sculptures, by the will to create, despite what life throws at us.
Eventually, I came to the source of the sound: a giant fountain installed in the front room of the mansion, overlooking the treetops and the Guggenheim. There is a sculpture of a dancing woman (one of Saint Phalle’s Nanas, who feature in much of her work) on top of a large hill, her arms raised above her head in exaltation. Water - life - pours forth from her.
I left the gallery moved by the contrast between the child-like figures and bright colors in her work and the grand architecture of the space. The tension felt inherent between exuberance and restraint. Mess and rigor. Art and money. Work and play. Life and death, of course.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the show as I wound through my bodega so I read this New Yorker article about Saint Phalle when I got home. I initially interpreted her work as a defiant expression of life, and I think it is. But as I learned more about her life, it became clear that not only was her work born out of a childhood of sadness and neglect (a troubled upbringing that took place in homes and schools mere blocks from where her work is now being celebrated), but she and her work also caused great sadness and neglect. She left her family and her children. To be free. To make art. To make an impact. Or maybe it was just so she could survive. I don’t know. But her life was like a spiral. Repeating itself.
Spirals are a key element in Saint Phalle’s work, as they are also a key element in nature (the spiraling shape of the universe and our DNA). Do spirals move us forward, or do they take us back to where we started? Maybe that’s the same thing.
Maybe we’re all trying too hard?
I was happy to stumble upon a secret space full of color and curiosity around the corner from my home. And now I was happy to be home, in my own secret space full of life. I felt grateful. To see my children and read books together and cuddle. Sometimes, often, I’ve felt like I should be doing more. Today, I feel like I do more than enough.
So, if you’re looking for something to do this weekend: visit the lawn at the Cooper Hewitt, get a glass of prosecco, use the bathroom, sit in the shade, and then go to Salon 94, see some art, ponder the meaning of life, and maybe get a vanilla cone with sprinkles from the ice cream truck after.
Enjoy.
x Lindsay
The Garden at the Cooper Hewitt
My favorite perch