amsterdam.
Back in June 2009, Daniel, a handful of his old ex-pat friends from Cambodia, and I made our way to The Netherlands, where a pair of their pals from Phnom Penh, Johnny and Aekje, were to be married. After the wedding in Friesland, we headed down to Amsterdam, where we’d rented a lovely apartment overlooking one of the canals. There was much traipsing about, attempts (and mostly failures) to find good eats, a lot of napping (Dave, above, is sleeping through a tender moment on Dutch television), and a great deal of photographs to be taken. One night we ended up at a bar not far from the train station, where we discovered the joys (and morning after effects) of genever with a regular named Harrie. I’ve not taken a long holiday since, so these photos, taken with the Yashica, are especially poignant and dear to me.
five leaves friday.
Took the day off yesterday to give myself an extra long weekend, and met up with Kathryn at Five Leaves in Greenpoint for a very leisurely three martini Reisling lunch. Always good to catch up with dear Shoobs, and always fun to poke fun at her ongoing love affair with John Adams (the miniseries, not the actual, er, dead president). We also chatted about Downton Abbey, the British drama now making its stateside appearance on PBS, which prompted me to watch the first episode online this morning, and my goodness, it is awesome.
The place was packed on a Friday afternoon — man, sometimes I wish I was a member of the creative class.
I’m still having some problems with proper exposure on the Leica, despite the fact that it now has the right batteries and was telling me that I was metering properly. Hmmm. I’m thinking (hoping?) it might be the film — at B & H last week, I’d asked for Elitechrome 200, which I quite like and have a good feel for, but when I got home, I discovered that they’d given me Ektachrome 200, which I’ve never used before. Elitechrome seems to be able to take a bit of underexposure; Ektachrome clearly does not. Had I known, I would’ve asked my photo lab to develop the film pushed one stop, just to compensate for the unevenness of the negatives. That said, it’s pretty wonderful to be reunited with the Leica again.
elementary.
After last Friday night’s nowhere-near-a-blizzard, the recess area of the local elementary school was blanketed with snow. On my way back from the gym on Saturday morning, I snapped this photo*, with the blurry section of the chainlink fence framing the sad little trees standing guard over the empty playground.
* What? Who doesn’t take their clunky 1960s Pentax to the gym?
greens and greys.
This song — Submarine Bells, by The Chills — has been on repeat in my head for the past day. I first heard it on a mixtape (remember those?!) that my friend Travis made for me back in the late 90s (remember the 90s?!), and have loved it ever since. Perhaps not coincidentally, this song pops up in my head around January 11th every year, as I turn one year older and ever more wistful. It’s absolutely breathtaking in its quiet affirmation of hope and love and all that good stuff.
[Photo taken with the Lomo on the Highline, October 2009]
this time every year.
Today is my birthday. Or, to be precise, [x] years ago on January 11th, I was born. So I guess I’m celebrating/observing/marking my birthday today. And, like on January 11th of every year since I was probably about 12, I take a moment where I think to myself: Okay. Wow. Y ou’re [previous age as of yesterday + one] now. Does it feel weird? And it always does. And I’ve wondered when that won’t be the case anymore, when on some January 11th in the future, I’ll be my previous age as of yesterday + one, and I’ll think: Huh. Well of course this feels perfectly normal. Hello previous age + one! It feels so good to be you!
Until that magical moment happens, I intend on commemorating my annual moment of utter alienation by consuming a lot of good food with great company. There’ll be Brucie tonight, Del Posto tomorrow, and possibly Vinegar Hill House or M. Wells Diner this weekend, in addition to a wee party at the local. I’ll also have the Leica for the weekend, so I’m pretty excited all around. There are worse ways of looking alienation in the eye, no?
[Photograph taken presumably by my mom, of my father and a two-year-old me, completely skeptical about the innocuousness of swans. I love this photo.]
house dinner.
This past Friday night we had our first proper house dinner since my newest housemate moved in a few months back. We whipped up a lovely dinner of spicy dal, curried brussels sprouts with cucumber raita, and brown rice, with dark chocolate and Belgian beer to follow. And, of course, a gentle fire and lively conversation. With a wee snowstorm swirling outside, it was a perfect way to hunker down inside and decompress from the first week of the new year.
four days, two boroughs.
Brooklyn Tavern, Wednesday.
Rocket Joe’s and Orchard Street, Thursday.
Midtown, Friday.
Char No.4, Boerum Hill, Saturday.
I rarely go through a roll of film this quickly when I’m not on holiday and there isn’t a specific special event that I’m documenting. And a great deal more happened over the course of last Wednesday through Saturday, some of which I’ll post later this week. But going through this most recent roll of Ektar 100 — a significant improvement over my Christmastime struggles with pushed Portra 400NC — I find myself still surprised, after all this time, at how varied and visual New York City proves to be.
christmas in nyc.
I celebrated Christmas last year by heading to Maialino for brunch and Ippudo for dinner. I’m not the carolling sort, I guess.
On a photography-related note: these photos were taken on Portra 400NC, pushed one stop. The scans turned out disastrously — everything underexposed and with off-putting green tones. I almost never futz around with the levels or color balance in post-processing, but these negatives required a lot of work before they looked even remotely like what we had devoured that day.
dear brucie.
I love you so much. Don’t ever change.
Seriously, I’ve never had a bad meal at Brucie. I want to tell you that it’s terrible, and that you should never go there, just so I can be guaranteed a seat whenever I stop in. But everyone should make the trek out to Cobble Hill and check this place out. It’s not food that will blow your mind. It’s not even a destination spot, despite what I just said about making the trek out here. But it offers an incredibly satisfying, ever-changing menu of warm, unpretentiously reinterpreted Italian-American fare that’s perfect for sharing – my friend Mark and I once attempted to split an appetizer and two entrees, and I ended up taking at least half of each pasta entree home; that’s how generous the portions are. And though I’m pretty sure it doesn’t have a fireplace, it just feels like there’s one; the place just absolutely glows.
Most importantly it’s an exemplar of what a neighborhood place should be, and if you’re interested in exemplars, then come on over. And give me a call, so I can join you.
the new year, as explained by confetti.
Bright, smiley, starry-eyed, infused with a warm, whiskey-hued glow. And, as always, a little unfocused.
[Photo taken 1/1/11 at Building on Bond. Gold star smiley face by Daniel, photo by an impossibly sensitive Pentax Spotmatic with Super Takumar 50mm f/1.4 lens, Ektar 100, and yours truly. To clarify — only the camera is impossibly sensitive.]
hong-an tran 