You’re reading Best of New York, a monthly recap of the city’s very best restaurants, bars, arts, culture, shopping, etc. etc. It’s not necessarily the latest, greatest, newest, hottest (but those spots find their way in, too); it’s simply the places that made the city sing for us every month that we think you might like, too.
I spent half of June in Europe, sailing the Amalfi Coast and romancing Paris (stories and hotel reviews coming soon!), so much of my month in NYC was spent prepping for and recovering from this trip. I needed a new duffel for low profile storage on the sailboat, so I dropped by Patagonia Upper West Side to pick up their Black Hole Duffel 55L with removable backpack straps, which I found both cute and practical. I managed to fit two weeks’ worth of gear into it with room for a little shopping along the way without it being totally backbreaking. Occasionally, I enjoy the challenge of packing light.
In May, Mara Hoffman announced the end of her eponymous, New York-based fashion line’s 24 year run with the Spring 2024 collection. I’ve probably been shopping her for as long, a notion made evident at her End of an Era Sample Sale in Soho in early June when a girlfriend overheard a 20-something explaining that the brand was for “older women.” LOL, fair. I’ve always coveted Mara Hoffman for its cool girl aesthetic and boho resort and swimwear pieces. I managed to snag a black column dress with her signature popcorn fabric on the bodice, a linen bolero-style top and a mix-and-match bikini with a bandeau top and crazy-high-waisted French cut bottoms—all for half the price of a single dress at retail. Plus, we got a glimpse of Mara, herself, sorting through the racks. End of an era, indeed. The sale continues online.
Pretend You’re Already in Paris
After the sample sale, we popped into Bibliotheque, a sleek café by day and wine bar by night in Soho whose walls are lined with books for purchase as if you’re in someone’s idiosyncratic private library. We sat at the front bar and sipped a blanc de blancs Champagne, which could have been colder (an American problem), later prompting me to say, “If I have one more glass of Champagne with crisp green apple notes…” Still, it was charming with transporting effects and a handsome and solicitous sommelier.
Back on the Upper West Side, La Sirène is a faithful facsimile of a Parisian bistro, down to its slightly kooky proprietor and menu with loquacious asides, like “cooked a la minute for you” or “very rich dish… served to warriors defending their village.” This sets the tone for an excellent meal. We delighted in crispy, succulent roasted Cornish hen and decadent butter-seared hanger steak with frites. The dining room is intimate, lined with red leather banquettes and woven rattan bistro chairs with picture windows looking out to Amsterdam Avenue.
I usually angle for a bar seat at Bar Boulud pre-theater for classic bistro fare, like steak tartare and escargots paired with an always perfectly chilled glass of Ponson Premier Cru Brut Champagne. But on a recent Saturday evening, after shopping on the east side, I met a girlfriend for a proper dinner post-theater rush. We opted for Monsieur Boulud’s Yankee burger with horseradish aioli, caramelized onions and cheddar. Parfait! The hospitality is always warm and sometimes Katie Holmes has the same idea for a late Saturday night dinner, seated solo up front by the window.
Afterwards, we bopped over to Vanguard, an always buzzy French wine bar on a quiet stretch of Amsterdam Ave.
Misc.
Citizens of Soho – Cute lil Australian café in Soho (also Chelsea and Gramercy) for brekky all day, kale salads and laptop time.
Arts & Culture
Little Island’s World Premieres
The Amph at Little Island (pictured at top) lies at the intersection of two of my favorite things: the Hudson River’s maritime culture and the performing arts. In June, it launched an inaugural summer festival, under the artistic direction of Zack Winokur, hosting nine world premieres in dance, opera, music and theater (through September 22). It kicked off with legendary choreographer Twyla Tharp’s How Long Blues (ended June 23), a dreamy, if disjointed dance-theater piece in collaboration with T Bone Burnett and David Mansfield. With sail boats and barges gliding past the sunken performance space and “curtain” timed perfectly with the sunset, it’s a delightfully hypnotic setting to enjoy a show.
On my radar for the remainder of the festival: a series of performances and conversations curated by Suzan-Lori Parks (July 10-14); Day For Night, a dance piece choreographed by Pam Tanowitz (July 17-21); and a one-man performance of The Marriage of Figaro (Aug. 30- Sept. 22).
‘I’m Tim’ at Tribeca Festival
Go figure that a documentary about a DJ would be my entrée to Tribeca Festival (ended June 16). While I consider myself a cinephile, I’m not terribly rigorous, and I’ve never had a sense of the who/what/when/where/why to attend Tribeca screenings, but when I heard about Avicii – I’m Tim, a documentary about the superstar Swedish DJ whose meteoric rise to fame in 2011 ended in tragedy with his suicide at age 28 in 2018, I decided to try my luck at a rush tic to the world premiere.
I was swept up in the electronic dance music scene during Avicii’s ascendancy and saw him perform live on multiple occasions. With major turning points in his career taking place at Ultra Music Festival in Miami during the years I attended, I was struck by how much the documentary felt like a walk down memory lane. What I was less aware of were the years after he retired from performing in 2016, with a net worth of $50 million. He had struggled with addiction and health issues and was now focused on getting healthy, producing new music, traveling and embarking on a spiritual journey.
He had nearly completed a new album, “Tim,” his given name and a sort of creative unmasking of the Avicii alter ego, when he took off for Oman in April 2018 and never returned. The album was released posthumously in June 2019, and with song titles, like “SOS,” “Heaven” and “Fades Away,” the entire project feels like a haunting suicide note, unveiling a new darkness to all of his music.
In the beginning of the documentary, Avicii says that he wants to create timeless music. With smash hits like “Levels” and “Wake Me Up,” coupled with this more personal final output, there’s no doubt he achieved his ambition. (In Paris, a couple of weeks after seeing the doc, I sat on the steps before Sacre Coeur while a musician from Haiti performed “Wake Me Up” for an international crowd for a feeling of eternity.)
The tragedy is that he couldn’t endure it. The film left me thinking, “Poor Avicii,” for days. For someone who brought so much ecstatic joy to so many, it’s heartbreaking that he was so tormented. As with all artists who die young, Avicii left us with the eternal gift of his music and also a void in place of everything else that he might have created.
