New Yorker Fest!!!!!

Every year the New Yorker, of which Dustin is a regular subscriber and I have been a longtime fan, has a festival of events over one weekend in October where all kinds of cultural icons and contributers speak, read, or are interviewed. Some cook and speak, then share with the audience (as Mario Batalli did this year). Some take the audience on a cruise around the island to discuss its architecture (and have brunch). Dustin and I were lucky enough (and fast enough on the internets) to get tickets to 5 events for this last weekend (not knowing we would both end up having to work all weekend). Fortunately we made it to 4 of the 5 events, in between working and going to friends' parties.

The first event was a reading in West Chelsea. We arrived mighty early and got great seats.


I knew when buying tickets that I wanted to see some kind of writer (even though I wasn't previously familiar with either of the two below), because, especially coming from a writing background (if I can actually call it that), I have never been to a reading that was not wonderful (my favorite being Lisa Zeidner, my hero).

The first person was Jonathan Safran Foer. He is 3 years older than me. And he is brilliant. BRILLIANT. He read this story that depended greatly on the use of symbols to represent what is (not) said in the silences of human interaction, particularly familial communication. His symbols were thrown up behind him via projector.


His story was intellectual and all of a sudden terribly moving. I was completely struck by his prose and ability to affect both heart and mind simultaneously. If I can find the story somewhere online I will link y'all to it, because it was wonderful.

The other writer was Edward P. Jones, who has a completely different style, and even in reading his work voices the prose differently. Whereas Foer had a soft, almost cynical, Jewish East-Coaster style, Jones had a lyrical, lilting Southern drawl that made his stories feel like lullabies.


After they read, there was a 1/2 hour-long Q & A session with the host and the audience, a format used for each New Yorker Festival event, which was pretty cool.


We kind of wanted to talk to the writers afterward, but Foer was being mobbed by 20-something hipster groupie girls (a group of which, if I had been familiar with Foer before this event, I would have sheepishly been a part).


Afterward we headed down to the Village to a lounge for Stephanie's birthday party - her first in New York!! She invited literally everyone she's met here, and I'm pretty sure every single person showed up.


Jason instantly asked me advice on how to talk to a cute girl across the room (as if I have experience in that area).


The birthday girl was leafing through Polaroids of the evening (that's her new big thing, as a photographer).


We wished her a happy day.


Nicole was there with her beau, ad exec Doug.


We were happy to see each other (though I suppose Doug doesn't look too happy in this photo).


It was strange... it was like a P.S. 260-quitters party.


Along with Nicole, former P.S. assistants Tom and Erik made their appearances.


As did former runner Emily (in the middle).


Plenty of regular P.S.-ers were there, of course me and D.


As well as Sarra & Princess.


And Jason brought one of his clients (?) so Mitch chatted her up as good producers do.


Stephanie took a Polaroid of Dustin and me. It was precious.


I'm not sure what happened to make this shot occur, but it seemed like an important event.


We left and decided to go to yet another shindig, to see our long-lost friend Madeleine (also an ex-P.S.-er). On the way we saw these cool chairs, aglow on the street.


It was a mustache party we were going to (mainly the reason we were going - I mean just look at Dustin). This is how we knew we were at the correct apartment.


There was Madeleine inside, back from her Canadian rock tour as videographer, and her beau Matty. (I guess Madeleine had lost her mustache by this time).


We were so happy to see her after many months apart.


The next day, Saturday, Dustin and I watched the TiVO-d "Battlestar Galactica" season premiere, then worked for a few hours (missing out on the lecture by Anthony Lane, my favorite movie critic), then went to our next event: a panel on "Fake News", including writer David Borowitz of the Borowitz Report, a head writer for "The Daily Show" and the lead editor for The Onion.


May I just say I laughed my bum off? There were many fans present.


Then, after a so-so quick dinner at a local Thai joint, we went to the 3rd event, an interview with Steve Coogan. It was a 7:30 start time, and for such events they had complimentary cocktails sponsored by Grey Goose (insert logo here - and twinkling smile). They were more than prepared.


I got the best bartender, who sublimely rimmed the glasses with sugar and swirled the cocktail as he poured.


Delish! (yes, I just said that and I'm not ashamed.) D. and I gave our best snooty-New Yorker-fans look.


Coogan, a British comedian and actor, best known for his roles in "24-Hour Party People" and the hilarious "Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story" was down-to-earth and hilarious. My favorite part was his impressions, and impressions of impressions: first he would say, "Well, anybody can do a caricature of Sean Connery" and give a perfectly fine impression of said actor, and then he would say, "But they often don't get the voice low enough," giving his voice a new depth and weight, which astoundingly made the impersonation even more spot-on.


And finally, on Sunday, after another day of work (or, I should say, during a 2-hour interlude during work), we saw a discussion between New Yorker editor David Remnick and Jon Stewart. Actually, right before the event started, I dashed out of the auditorium to go to the ladies' room (no camera). One of the P.A.'s gave me wrong directions, and I ended up almost running down an escalator that was going up... I stopped myself just in time an looked up to see the person coming up was... wait for it.... Jon Stewart himself. I stared at him, and he was staring at me, and I stammered to myself, "Oh, I'm going the wrong way...." and twirled around and ran in the other direction. It was great.


Jon Stewart was funny (of course) but more than that he was extremely intelligent and well-spoken in discussing the media's role in our culture, and in the world. He himself got tongue-tied when his wife and 2-year-old son came in a little late and sat in the 4th row. He saw them and suddenly couldn't think of anything to say and got all blushy. It was quite endearing.

One of his remarks of last night ended up on national news this morning, which I thought was funny.

Anyway, then we went back to work for the rest of our lives.


love,
*jenna*