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Smartly dressed man performing near the Washington Arch~Washington Square Park: Greenwich Village, NY~ |
As the visual and cultural epicenter of Greenwich Village,
Washington Square Park presides on nearly 10 acres of green space on the
southern third of Manhattan in New York City. The space is dominated by
the Washington Arch built to celebrate the 100 year anniversary of George
Washington’s inauguration. The western side of the park boasts an array
of gaming tables used primarily for chess and an impressive fountain that can
be found at the center of the park.
On my latest trip to New York, I
ventured into the park to listen to some of the street musicians that are regularly found performing around lunchtime and early into the afternoon. I
found a prime location on a bench facing the fountain in view of a smartly
dressed man playing Beethoven’s Piano Sonata no. 14 (aka "Quasi una fantasia" or Moonlight Sonata) on a baby grand piano.
I
had only been in the city for a few hours and I couldn’t help but laugh at the
fact that I was now drowning in culture. As content as I was to sit there
and enjoy the excellent musicianship, I noticed the young women sitting across
from me having a rather animated conversation with someone that was undoubtedly
her significant other. From what I could decipher from my limited
perspective they had planned on meeting in the park to discuss the future of
their relationship. The guy had ultimately decided that it was not worth
his time and I watched as she became increasingly vulnerable as she pleaded
with him to not give up on their relationship. She eventually closed her
phone and dejectedly placed it in her lap as the tears began to flood down her
cheeks.
This went on for several
minutes until an older gentleman that had been sitting near me walked over to
the young woman and gave her his handkerchief. He bent over and whispered
into her ear for nearly a minute at which point he stepped back and watched as
she gathered herself and wiped the remaining tears from her face. The young
woman thanked the man and stood next to him as they both watched the piano
player finish his piece almost on cue as if a higher power
were truly conducting the affairs of man. The older gentleman
shook her hand and smiled as she walked away and left the park.
I wonder what he whispered in her ear. What words of
wisdom did he have for the brokenhearted? Why did her lover not fight for her; why had
he given up when she clearly cared so deeply? I suppose the question is always more revelatory than the
answer. In a city so famously callous and impersonal, I had witnessed
something so deeply personal and intimate. I knew it was going to be a
great week if only because hope is the most infectious of sentiments.
Alexander Pope says it best in his Essay on Man,
“Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never Is, but always To be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.”
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| Locals playing chess |
One of Feist's most poignant ballads that closely mirrors the vignette I witnessed in the park.
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