Goodbye Belvoir

Tonight would have been my first night at camp. I attended the same performing arts camp, Belvoir Terrace, for eight summers. Part of what has allowed me to be a flâneur this summer is the fact that I have outgrown camp, literally. I will miss everything and everyone so much. This summer I hope to find that same freedom of creativity and knowledge that I enjoyed annually at Belvoir.

Cottage 2010

             I can remember the red, white, and blue of the flag that proudly boasted its loose frame above the verdurous plane. A sighting of an American flag is not exactly a novel sighting. The trademark of this country, the flag has become a kind of wallpaper, imposing its vibrant colors anywhere it can. But the flag on Cliffwood Street is different, well, it is for me, and I think it is for any other girl diagnosed with the Purplitis. The American flag that sits on a hill at Belvoir Terrace contains four colors. Though the fourth is not visible to the mortal eye, it is no doubt there. The flag at Belvoir Terrace, our flag, is comprised of red, white, blue, and purple.

            The shiny black gate that surrounds the camp should not be mistaken as a barrier, though it physically creates a wall between camp and the town of Lenox. The truth is that no method of blockage could keep the girls of Belvoir Terrace confined, our thoughts and our creativity are far too big. The world that Nancy and Diane have created is far different than the one that exists beyond the black gate. It is a world concentrated by creativity and art, and is dominated by smart, talented, and totally fabulous women. I was fortunate enough to call this world my world for eight years.

Belvoir Terrace, yes, that is where I went to camp

From the time I was nine to the time I was sixteen, the shaded rolling hills of the Berkshires gave me sanctuary from the concrete jungle during the hot summer months. The safety of Belvoir allowed me to take risks in my activities and in my friendships. I can still recall the sick feeling in my nine-year-old stomach, the one that spawned from my realization that I was leaving my parents for a large duration of time for the first time. I boarded the camp bus unsure of what would come from this camp that was somewhat discerningly different from the kind of camp I always had imagined myself attending. I never even thought that a camp could be a world, but Belvoir is. I dipped my toes into every aspect of the Belvoir world. I danced at Dance Night, I sang in the Jesup, I drew in the Green House, I wrote on the lawn, and I keeled over in laughter with my best friends on the tie-dye couches of the Cottage. But the most important thing I did at Belvoir was grow up. 
            The Fourth of July at Belvoir was always one of my favorite times as a camper. From Square Dancing to Banana Splits, the day never ceased to entertain me. This summer will be my first summer celebrating the Fourth of July without my family, my Belvoir family that is. I always felt that the Fourth of July was not just a celebration of American liberation, how could it be with such an internationally diverse group of girls. The Fourth of July, to me, was a celebration of Belvoir, and the freedom it gave to each and every person that inhabited it during the summer months.

The purple in the flag is invisible to anyone who never attended Belvoir Terrace. It will, however, always be there for me, as I remember my Belvoir home and Belvoir family.

Happy summer and Happy Fourth of July to Belvoir Terrace summer 2011!

I Love This...

Via Quadronno and Alexander McQueen

Well, it is officially summer. I have discarded every handout, binder, and notebook that I used for school, erasing any trace of the infamously treacherous Junior year. The sun is shining, well, not today. But it has undoubtedly gotten hotter, which, I like for a few days at a time (my family calls me "clammy sammy").

My Mom's Salad

Summer also means endless hours of unscheduled, laid-back summer days. I have already taken advantage of many of these days, however, yesterday I decided to get off the couch and be a flâneur.


The day began at 11:00 when I woke up, it is summer after all. My mom had a haircut on the East Side so we decided to venture out of the safety of the Upper West Side and have lunch on the Upper East Side at Via Quadronno on 73rd between 5th and Madison. I love Via Quadronno. One of my best friends, and my token Upper East Sider, took me there for the first time this year and I just love it. I love the food, the atmosphere, the location, and even that one waiter who is a little bit too friendly. For lunch, my mother got a delicious looking salad, topped with Parmesan cheese and tuna. I ordered my usual panini: the Primavera. The Primavera is a panini stuffed with goat cheese, tomatoes, chopped romaine, and a black olive paté. When I ate this panini, I felt like I was one of the three graces depicted in Botticelli's infamous painting Primavera, light and whimsical. The three graces in his painting are enjoying the return of spring, just as I was enjoying the return of summer. The panini, to me, embodied exactly what I was feeling at that moment: free and uninhibited. To finish the meal, my mom and I both ordered hot beverages. My mom, the fervent coffee drinker, ordered a cappuccino, and I, the fervent chocolate consumer, ordered a hot chocolate.

My Panini, The Primavera

We had some time to spare so we headed over to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I absolutely love art and art history so any chance to look at the great works is a treat for me. My mom and I walked through galleries housing the works of Adelaide Labille-Guiard, Jacques-Louis David, Degas, and Manet, just to name a few. We ultimately ended up at our final destination which was the Alexander McQueen exhibit.

The exhibit was incredible. I marveled at not only the pieces but also at the execution of the exhibition. Each room was so well thought out and intriguing. The flow between the design of the garments and the design of the individual rooms was flawless. McQueen was such a visionary. He was a true artist, not so different than David or Manet. He was not afraid to push the boundaries of fashion to make people feel something. His clothes are not superficial, I suppose they could be, but really they are as dense in meaning and metaphor as David's Death of Socrates.

An Alexander McQueen Dress

The MET is often admonished for being too much in the past. The museum has been criticized for not jumping into the contemporary art world in regards to their exhibitions. This exhibit is the perfect step into the modern world for the MET. McQueen was emblematic of innovation and modernity. He used technology, such as the hologram of Kate Moss (my personal favorite), to convey a message about something material, something hand-made. He faced the same problems that the masters of art faced; his ability to overcome the obstacles makes him a master too. The quintessential problem for artists is that they are tasked to create something real out of something fake. They choose to depict 3-D images on 2-D surfaces. However, great artists embrace the limitations of their mediums to make statements. McQueen accentuated his fabrics and drapery, and in doing so he made clear that his clothes were made from fabric and stitches, yet he did not deny his clothes a deeper meaning. What set McQueen apart from other designers was his intentions. He did not make clothes just to make clothes. He made clothes to present something unique to the general public.

It is clear that McQueen belongs in the Metropolitan Museum of Art even past the end of this exhibition.  

The Basics

Charles Baudelaire

The Definition The term flâneur comes from the French noun flâneur which refers to one who strolls, lounges, or saunters. The famous art critic of the 19th century Charles Baudelaire of Paris once stated that a flâneur is, "a person who walks the city in order to experience it." Baudelaire's use of the word, combined with the usages of others in economic, cultural, literary, and historical fields, has lead the definition of the term flâneur to extend beyond its direct meaning into a more theoretical realm. The term has often been understood as a way to understand the urban environment and the modern world.

The Mission I have decided to become the modern day flâneur. I am endeavoring to understand my world by simply observing it. I will explore my city, New York City, in the hopes of discovering something, anything really. I will peruse art exhibitions, attend concerts, watch movies, read books and articles, and even just sit on some park bench and stare at the figures that pass by. I am not searching for anything, except that which is interesting.

But, Why? You may be wondering, what is the point of this blog? There are millions upon millions of blogs inhabiting cyberspace, what makes this blog unique, or even worthwhile. But see, the very thing that I think, the thing that I hope, will make this blog unique is the absence of a distinct message. This blog is about finding beauty in ordinary things, in ordinary life. If you do find something meaningful in what I write I will have succeeded, and if you do not find something meaningful in what I write I also will have succeeded. There are no deadlines, no evaluations, and no expectations. This blog is as free as the city it will strive to depict. I want, and I want for you, to become a part of the environments we live in, and find inspiration there. As Baudelaire once said, "In order for the artist to have a world to express he must first be situated in this world, oppressed or oppressing, resigned or rebellious, a man among men."

And so, let the flaneuring begin!