Photography

I'm impressed with the photography of Irving Penn, and was disappointed in the decision, though I respect it, to not be a part of a portrait show of which I asked him to be a part. Irving Penn does not do group shows, is what I was told. I could have snatched those words right off the screen had it been possible. I would have preferred "Mr. Penn does not participate", but hey, not everyone reads into the tone in an e-mail like me. Regardless, I couldn't blame Mr. Penn for a blanket response that really had nothing to do with me, or the show I was creating. Still, he was once just a staff writer turned photographer for Vogue in the 40s when it all started for him.

By the way, it was a fabulous show!

I've always respected the art, though I understand there are some that do not in general, and how he presents it in fact, and I do so even now after he denied me. Distasteful as the employee seemed to be on the other end of the digital conversation, albeit a poor taste of words, he holds me. I am still quite pleased every time I see an Irving Penn show, and currently in New York City there are two.

Tomorrow, following the dress rehearsal of Purcell's King Arthur, directed at New York City Opera by the well-known genius choreographer / dancer / director / conductor, Doctor Mark Morris, I will see one of those shows. I plan to sandwich Morris's opera with gallery visits, my favorite Saturday outings in NY.

UPDATE (MARCH 6, 2008) - REVIEW OF MORRIS'S KING ARTHUR

Morris smiles when people refer to him by the title granted by one of the 9 institutions that have bestowed him his honorary doctorates. Why wouldn't we want to make the man who brings joy to the world, as declared by The New York Times, smile? Mark Morris is a man who has taken on some of the best works of music ever recorded and has brought them to the world in live accompaniment of his most fabulous Mark Morris Dance Group. They're technically masterful these days and he's proud to have the best modern dancers in the world working for him. The Mark Morris Dance Group is an entirely separate genius, and the man that makes them is a gem I'm fortunate to have in my world, and July 3 of this year will explain why.

But tomorrow's dress rehearsal is not that one, a love story in its purest sense. This one, still to come, is more of a pageant. And though not his best, it certainly is certifiably Morris.

TIMBIRICHE

Once upon a time a little 6-year old Mexican (that's me) had an ear ache. It was just terrible. He (ok, I) was in Acapulco, and the ache stemmed from too many dives into the waves of the great, warm Pacific Ocean. That night, as the pain persisted, it seemed like nothing could help.

Each and every one of my childhood Christmas holidays until I was 10 was spent where my mother was born, in the beautiful bay of Acapulco, with its warm waters and gorgeous beaches. Everything was there for me: family, friends, tortillas, pozole. I went to my first nightclub there (NEWS Discoteque) in 1992. But it was 10 years before that when I discovered a sound of music that would continue to chart my course through adolesence and into adulthood. It was a cool April evening, we were in Mexico with my family during the Spring Break holidays, 1982.

What premiered on the television, which my grandmother positioned in front of me for distraction purposes, was enough to change my world forever.

They were 6 kids, just a couple of years older than me, being introduced in a television special alongside the Spanish singer/songwriter Miguel Bosé, and they would rock my world.
TIMBIRICHE

Named after what we in the US call the game Dots and Boxes, Timbiriche would grow to alongside a generation of Mexicans. A year later, they would gain a 7th member and together change Mexican pop forever. They sang of life, the world around them, friendships, growing up, found (and lost) love, betrayal, reconciliation, and (above all) their love of music and Rock.

With every new year came a new album. Somehow, they brought me and my cousins closer. As I would return to little Acapulco for another of holidays, my cousins would be waiting for me with the latest album in hand and all the hits from the previous year already memorized. When we started to get old enough to go out, Timbiriche's songs had also begun to mature and were the anthems that meant more than words alone could express. Every year, I would miss my chance to see them live. In all that time, they never came to Chicago, where I grew up, and I never seemed to be in Mexico at the right time; we just grew up together in song. Those songs resonate so vividly. And I knew I wasn't alone. A whole generation was growing up with them. It was a world that I owned alone, far away from my daily life in the Windy City that, according to my friends, I had all to myself (in my mind, just part of being an only child). Timbiriche ceased to exist after 12 albums, the final record released in 1994, and it seemed they would just go down in my own history, something to remember in passing as a happy moment that was long gone.

In 1998, I was destroyed to learn that they had reunited for a show in Acapulco that no one warned me about. That show led to a successful reunion in Mexico City that sold out 20 shows at the 10,000-seat National Auditorium of Mexico. But I found out too late. It seemed never meant to be, and I had just moved on.

2006... a Wikipedia page appeared on the group, which I found astonishing. The golden anniversary was coming soon. Would there be a reunion? Could they do it again after so long? Indeed, they quickly announced plans to return, 6 of the original members. And so there it was. The reunion would include a new album, a tour throughout Mexico and the US, and a movie. On September 15, 2007 my time came, I finally met Timbiriche LIVE.

There was nothing on earth that could have prepared me for this one. It was more than spectacular, it was all-encompasing. I laughed, danced, cried, cheered, and - very loudly on command - sang the night away. They reached Chicago (to where I returned just for the show) on Mexico's Independance Day, which only meant more to us all. I'm 32 years old and after 25 of those years, I finally felt complete.

Brilliance

General Tom Thumb, born Charles Sherwood Stratton, began touring with circus pioneer P.T. Barnum in 1843 at the tender age of five. Stratton's short stature—he was a mere 3 feet, 4 inches (102 cm) tall when he died—and his comedic impersonations quickly made him an international success. Laughter is beautiful. In 1863 on this day, Stratton married Lavinia Warren, another performer in Barnum's show. Their marriage was front-page news, and thousands joined them at their wedding reception.

Other notable Toms:
-Brady. Where did Tom Brady get that great idea? He's so lucky to have met Homer (see above).
-Anderson. OK, who else but a genius would come up with such a brilliant winner like myspace?
-Touko Laaksonen (of Finland), in four decades created more than 3,500 illustrations, all of which I adore
-Ford and Hilfigier (Fashion) and Tom's Couture (there has to be more there than meets the eye)
-Hanks (1985 - mom literally runs into Tom, filming Nothing in Common, outside her office and he gives her the evil eye. It takes Philadelphia for her to finally forgive him, though she never forgets).
-Life Among the Lowly (ok, that's a stretch, even for me!)


I also know a guy by the name of Tom.
I've seen him around, last socially on a pier on the Hudson here in NYC during an old favorite summer shindig toasting the season's endless sunsets. 2007 was when he and I finally did more that peek, we spoke. Gorgeous smile, great look, sensual attitude, sexy daddy, smart head on a set of hard-earned shoulders, recent workout partner, hopeful friend - Tom's a cool guy.