Navigating New York: Central Park and The MET

I left my husband and our son at the American Museum of Natural History. They wanted to stay longer to explore the Earth and Planetary Sciences Hall and to see the Space Show at the Hayden Planetarium Space Centre.

As for me, it was time to see some art after looking at dinosaur bones. Since they were not interested in going to The MET (The Metropolitan Museum of Art), I went alone.

I left the museum via the West 77th Street grand entrance and passed by the Grand Gallery where a 63-foot-long great canoe was suspended from the ceiling. There were also glass cases that display rare gems and ancient trilobite fossils. I literally just passed by because I wanted to get to my destination right away. I was told by one of the museum workers that the fastest way to reach The MET is through Central Park, but the only information she could give me was to exit here and turn left and that it would be an approximately 20-minute brisk walk.

I reached Central Park West Avenue, and I could see Central Park across the street, but just to ensure that I take the correct trail, I asked one of the hotdog vendors for directions. He told me to walk all the way to West 81st, turn slightly right and follow the path all the way to 5th Avenue. I thanked him and bought a hotdog bun to go. There was a Halal Guys food truck a few steps away and though I had always wanted to try their shawarma, a hotdog bun would be easier for me to eat while walking, plus the hotdog vendor was nice and helpful.

I followed his instructions and I was at the park in no time. It was refreshing to finally see grass and trees after so many days of navigating this concrete jungle. I’ve been to Central Park before, but it is so huge that I have not even explored a quarter of it. In fact, I had never set foot on the path that I was taking that day.

I passed by the Swedish Cottage Marionette Theatre, the Shakespeare Garden behind it, and the Delacorte Theatre. And guess who I found - Shakespeare himself, sitting on a bench playing a lute. Then I saw a banner advertising a Shakespearean Festival and a few other people wearing medieval costumes. In the distance was a castle perched on a rock (Belvedere Castle) with a pond (Turtle Pond) in front of it with ducks contentedly floating by. The scene was like a piece of Middle Ages England in the heart of New York.

I walked on a passed by a waffle stand and then stumbled upon a portion an oval (Great Lawn Oval) with a softball field in the centre. I had to ask a couple of ladies resting with their babies under a tree if I should go all the way around the oval or if I should turn somewhere. They pointed me to the direction of an Egyptian obelisk. They told me to follow that path until I reach the arch (Greywacke Arch). I later learned that the obelisk, nicknamed, “Cleopatra’s Needle” is a genuine ancient Egyptian artifact given as a gift to the United States. It is a part of a pair, and its twin is in London. There is also a third obelisk in Paris, also part of a pair but its twin remains in Luxor, Egypt.

I finally reached the tunnel under the arch and when I emerged from it, I could see a building that’s part of The MET. There were also signs and tourists walking down, so I knew I was on the right track.

Steps before I had to turn into 5th Avenue, I saw a small park with a bronze sculpture of a group of bears. And as I turned into the main street, I came across stalls selling all kinds of art – paintings, tapestries, glass art, charcoal drawings. I confirmed I was definitely there…and then I saw the fountain and the steps.

I was excited because this was my first time at The MET and I was particularly keen on seeing the “Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination” exhibit which opened in May of that year with a lot of celebrity fanfare and ran until early October.

It didn’t take me long to get in because I had a NY Pass and there was no line at the entrance. I headed to the special exhibition immediately.

The “Heavenly Bodies” exhibition was the Costume Institute’s spring presentation in 2018 that highlighted the dialogue between fashion and medieval art forms, particularly those that have been linked with Catholic devotional practices. It featured the works of fashion designers, who for the most part, were raised in the Catholic tradition, and whose creativity and imagination have been inspired by a world of votive candles, stained glass windows, religious icons and medals, elaborate clerical robes and altar vestments, rosary beads, and holy images.

The journey began at the Byzantine and Medieval Art Galleries and continued in the Anna Wintour Costume Centre and sections of the Robert Lehman Wing. The concluding part was unfortunately set up at The MET Cloisters in northern Manhattan, which I did not have time to see.

I am not a fashionista, but I found this exhibition quite interesting. The designers were able to capture the essence of Catholic symbology, even if they are far removed from the sanctity of the Church.

The Byzantine collection was clearly inspired by the interiors of Byzantine churches with their mosaic tile work and their ornate crosses, while the Medieval Europe gallery was based on the garments created for the Madonna and Child as depicted by elaborate embroideries, colourful bead work and opulent appliques.

The Medieval Sculpture Hall was patterned after the typical interior of a church with a single nave and two aisles and a choir screen that symbolizes the separation of the earthly hierarchy from the celestial hierarchy. The latter features mannequins outfitted in costumes inspired by the clergy – the Pope, bishops, priests, religious orders, and monastics, while on the other side, mannequins were clothed like heavenly angels with sparkly white fabrics and golden wings.

Beyond this gallery is The Treasury with a display of accessories that emulate religious paraphernalia such as rosary beads, medals, and other devotional objects. The collection at the Robert Lehman Wing depicts the courts of saints and the courts of angels.

The overarching atmosphere that the exhibition created was that of creative reverence, in my opinion. There was even some heavenly chanting playing in the background that made one feel like one is inside a cloister, or even outside the gates of heaven. I heard someone say that there is a fine line between imagination and blasphemy but as I looked at the pieces on display, I could only see beauty and glorification. The ostentatiousness of Catholic ritual, art, clothing, and finery are meant for the exaltation of the divine and the eternal. The vision and imagination of the designers just illustrate that in a more secular approach.

After I had my fill of this little piece of paradise, I checked out the other exhibitions on the ground floor. On the west side of the building was the European and Decorative Arts exhibition; Greek and Roman Art exhibition; and the Arts of Africa, Oceania, and the Americas exhibition which I quickly cruised. Then I crossed over to the eastern wing to look at the Egyptian Art collection, as well as the Arms and Armour exhibition.

I didn’t have time to go all the way to the back to see American Wing and the Modern and Contemporary Art galleries, nor to see more exhibits on the upper floors. I would have wanted to go to the Asian Arts gallery and the Art of the Arab Lands, Turkey, Iran, Central Asia, and South Asia, but clearly, it was impossible. Instead, I went to The MET Store to purchase some magnets and left. It was getting close to 4:00 p.m. and I promised my boys I’d let them know what’s going on.

I tried calling them as I was going down the stairs, but my husband wasn’t picking up the phone. I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it back to the American Museum of Natural History in time, as it would take me 20 minutes to walk back there. If I would take the subway, I might as well just go back to Times Square and meet them there or back at the hotel.

I asked one of the hotdog vendors again for directions. The guy told me that the closest subway station was on West 77th Street, past Lenox Hill Hospital, so I started walking fast. The skies were turning gray again and I could tell that a heavy downpour was coming. I wanted to make it to my ride before I got soaked. I did not even have a chance to admire the relatively quieter neighborhood of the Upper East Side which was such a sharp contrast to the other touristy districts.

As I was crossing Park Avenue, my phone rang. My husband called to let me know that they were running late as well and that there was one more exhibit they’d like to see so I could take my time at The MET. I told him that I was already on my way to the subway and that I will just meet them at the hotel.

I arrived at the station a few minutes before the rain poured down as I saw people rushing inside with soaked umbrellas and dripping raincoats. I had to buy a new ticket because my old one from the morning had already expired. However, I couldn’t find the C Line. Apparently, the A, C, and E lines do not run from there. There are only Lexington Lines 4, 5, and 6.

Fortunately, I found a nice lady to ask, and she told me that all these lines stop at the Grand Central Station and from there, I could take the S Line that would take me directly to Times Square. She said she was going to Grand Central Station anyway, so she asked if I just wanted to tag along.

“Sure,” I said. We chatted while waiting for the train and while standing on the train. It was already rush hour, so the station and the train cars were packed and we didn’t get seats. When she learned I am from Canada, she jokingly said, “Lucky you. You have a better leader. It’s a mess up here.” We, however, did not delve into politics, but instead talked about the weather, the health care system, the employment prospects, and the traffic situation in our respective cities.

We bid goodbye to each other at Grand Central. She gave me directions to the S Line and wished me luck. I’m glad I took the subway. I had been meaning to go to Grand Central Station anyway and thought we wouldn’t have time. But I was given the time on this trip, even thought it was not planned. How fortuitous!