Another Opening, Another Show...

As predicted, today is a great day to be visiting open houses in the Capital District.

But before we get to our commercial, click here to enjoy the Muppets performing the famous opening number from "Kiss Me Kate."

And now, back to our commercial: Today, smack in the middle of the Capital District, with a great view and Mohawk River/Erie Canal access, is my 2nd open house, from 2:30 to 4:30. At 228 Forts Ferry Road, right where the Colonie Bike Path crosses.

You'll find it easy to get to, and hard to leave.

Preview here.

Judging

Last winter (you remember last winter, don't you?) there was one extremely cold Saturday. It happened to be the day that I was scheduled to appear as the judge in two enhanced staged readings of the play, "The Trial of Ebenezer Scrooge" by the recently-formed Troy CivicTheatre.

It was also the day that a furnace that heats half of my house on the Mohawk quit.

It could have been a disaster, but it was avoided. The outcome was so good, in fact, that I, a seasoned creative director and advertising copywriter, wrote a testimonial for the local outfit that saved the day, Umbrella of Colonie. Here's what I wrote:

They say the show must go on, and it did, thanks to Umbrella of Colonie. It happened on the Saturday a week before Christmas Eve – the Saturday of the first fund-raising production of a new community theatre company, the Troy Civic Theatre. And on the coldest day of the year.

I was cast in a pivotal role – the irascible judge who presides at “The Trial of Ebenezer Scrooge,” a “sequel” to Charles Dickens' “A Christmas Carol,” in which the old miser sues his dead partner, Jacob Marley, and the Spirits of Christmas for all the indignities they subjected him to a year before.

As I was preparing to leave the house for a mid-morning call, I noticed that one half of the house was colder than the other. A furnace was not working. I had a half an hour to get to Troy, and no way to get to the furnace, which is in a crawl space under my unusual house. And no handyman skills to fix it, even if I could get to it.

I've been a member of Umbrella of Colonie for a couple of years now, because for a nominal monthly fee based on income, the service is on call for all sorts of services, emergency and otherwise. They screen the people who do the work – painting, cleaning, home and lawn maintenance and repairs of all kinds, provide carbon monoxide detectors, perform a safety check – and regulate the hourly fees for the work. It's a service that helps seniors like me stay in their homes, safe and secure.

I called, left a detailed message about the problem and how to get to the furnace, left the back door open, and got to the theatre on time, and while I was on stage, the workman showed up, sized up the problem, and left his number with the assistant at the theatre.

I called him back when the show was over and the applause died down, and as soon as the parts were available early the next week, the HVAC expert showed up on time, got the furnace working and even saved me money by finding and solving a smaller problem than originally suspected.

So, if you're a senior in the Town of Colonie, and you haven't signed up for the services of Umbrella of Colonie, I have just one question for you: Why the dickens not?

A couple of months ago, I decided to have Umbrella of Colonie recommend others who could get my house in tip-top shape so I could put the house on the market. My judgments of them was the same -- I was very pleased with the painter, window washer, fence menders and pressure-washers they provided.

And just as Umbrella of Colonie's April newsletter showed up, this listing appeared. (You can see photos of the house and the incredible view there.)

So the judging didn't stop there, of course. Over the past couple of weeks, many people have come to see and judge my house.

And one was even a judge. A real one.

Bella Vita

Thursday night was the kickoff dinner of an exciting new project for Troy's Little Italy, called "Bella Vita," which means beautiful life.

Andrea Daley, who created this new exciting project to fill Little Italy with frescoes by local artists, asked me to emcee the ceremony and to describe what living in Little Italy was like in the past. This is part of those remarks. I'm not sure she wanted me to go back this far, but I'll start in the late 1800's.

(Outside of my family stories and experiences, everything else I know about the neighborhood comes from Mike Esposito, who knows all and tells all, and all you have to do is ask him. He's also written a wonderful photo and history book of the area, “Troy's Little Italy,” which you can find at your local bookstore.)

My parents were the youngest children of the Viscos

and the LaPostas –

-- two families that had a lot in common, their patriarchs arriving from Italy just about a generation after our Civil War, which coincided with the long overdue unification of Italy. My grandparents were also two of the original eleven families who helped to establish the “Italian Church,” St. Anthony's.

Antonio and Philomena Visco raised their family in a ramshackle house they owned. It had 4 tiny flats, and was moved in the late 1800's from Williams Street Alley around the corner and up to Liberty Street, between St Mary's & Haverman's Avenues. I can only imagine the teamwork that must have taken, with neighbors pitching in with their muscle, ingenuity and home-made wine.

My father had three brothers and four sisters, and outside of the daily grind of homemaking, working in laundries, foundries, factories, haberdasheries, and local politics, the Visk family, as they came to be known, loved putting on shows in order to raise money for St. Anthony's, and for other local organizations. During World War Two, the beneficiary was the USO. Everyone in the neighborhood was welcome to participate, either in front of or behind the curtain.

When I came along, our property was a four ring circus, full of people playing good-natured practical jokes in a cramped backyard that had a pond, a garden, a boccie court, and a green “banquet hall” built and named by Uncle Jimmy, so the family could gather for communal meals in bad weather. My mother renamed it “The Barracks,” because that's what it looked like, and the name stuck. Uncle Jimmy was not too happy about that. When I say the family gathered in the backyard, I don't just mean blood relatives. I remember neighbors and friends and even Franciscan priests being part of the fun. And not everyone was Italian, either. Italian boys fell in love with Irish girls and they were welcome, as were many friends and neighbors whose families came from all over the world.

As the years went on, some stayed, and some moved away – to other parts of the city, to the suburbs, even to careers in major cities.

But a spirit of family, and support for building a prosperous future stayed with us all. It never died. It grew, it brought some of us back, and it continues to attract people who sense that something special is still alive in Little Italy today. That same cooperation, tolerance and true camaraderie that moved houses and shared entertainment and meals seems to have become part of the buildings, the streets, the very air.

People still move here and stay here because of it. And it's that spirit that brings us together here tonight to start this project. People who were born here, people who feel that their lives are reborn here --- all who want to be – need to be – part of keeping it alive and helping it grow. That's why we need people like Andrea – a bundle of energy and talent that's focused on encouraging the growth of that spirit – one that I believe will live forever in Little Italy, and spread throughout the city – becoming our own renaissance. I hope you'll take a few more minutes to visit this webpage, learn more about the wonderful Bella Vita project and contribute as an artist or a sponsor.

Grazie!

House Hunting Advice

Spring. The time when thoughts turn to moving up in the world, to start looking around and deciding it's time to move to a bigger/smaller/warmer/better in someway house.

If you're getting the itch to start looking around, I've got the perfect place to start -- you can check it out here. There's an open house from noon to 2 today at 228 Forts Ferry Road in Latham, a unique house in the center of the Capital District, with a view that could start a new school of painting to rival the Hudson School.

See what I mean? (The view from my deck.)

But wait -- it's a gloomy, showery day. Shouldn't you wait for a sunny, blue sky day, when the sun is glittering off the Mohawk as it wends its way a couple of twisty miles to spill over the Cohoes Falls?

The best house hunting advice I ever got was from my father -- always look at a house in the rain, or just after the rain -- how else will you know if it leaks or not?

I can give you this advice with complete confidence, because the roofs on my rambling house are less than ten years old. And overhead in the original part of the house, the rain sounds lovely as it plays upon the metal.

Besides, my view is even spectacular on a misty day, as you can see it this photo.

So plan your drive and visit as many open houses as you can today. You can thank me at the closing.

Million Dollar View For Sale

Today, I present just three of the many moods that I've seen in the past quarter century.

Yes, this view can be yours, and believe it or not, there's a beautiful and unique four bedroom house that goes with it.

Even harder to believe, it's smack-dab in the middle of Albany, Troy and Schenectady, and only 20 minutes to Saratoga Springs.

Watch this space for news of an imminent open house.

In The News. Again.

Thank goodness for my peaceful view.

There's been a lot of activity lately at my home in Latham, between the Colonie Bike Path and the Mohawk River.

And some sadness, too, as I'm clearing out 23 years of accumulated treasures and having the interior painted and cleaned and staged.

If that sounds like getting a house ready to go on the market, you're right. The first open house will be in a couple of weeks, with an estate sale to follow. Details will be forthcoming.

In the midst of all this, as I was reading the online version of the Albany Times Union last week, I noticed this blurb asking for pictures of interesting stained glass in area homes. I happen to have a very interesting piece, custom-made and designed as a surprise for my wife's 50th birthday, about a dozen years ago.

I photographed it, sent it to Tracy Ormsbee at the TU, and to my happy surprise, it was #3 in today's real estate section cover story, with this caption:

"Frank LaPosta Visco sent us a photo of the stained glass window made for his late wife, Eileen, for her 50th birthday. A group of friends commissioned artist John Domanico to create it to look like one of her favorite Tiffany windows."

It would have made "Ei" very happy to see it, as would the fact that, although the window will be on display during the open house, it will be staying with me wherever I go.

Technology, Then & Now

I've been having some interesting discussions with friends recently, about how technology has changed and advanced over the years.

One friend/client who has worked for a couple of leading tech companies based in the Albany, NY area, and doing business on a world-wide scale, has suggested that I write a book about the changes I've seen in just one lifetime of working in radio and advertising. And I will take on her challenge.

A locally-based artistic couple I know have begun an exciting venture to engage the art world in the world of business, to the benefit of both. Their ideas are taking shape and they've already had successes that have brought them to the attention of major corporations.

That's a long intro to something that may seem completely off the point: A movie made in France by a true auteur in 1948, when I was just a boy.

The movie is “Jour de Fete,” the first full-length feature by Jacques Tati, who is more famous for his tour de force, “Mr. Hulot's Holiday.” Years ago, I managed to find an old vhs copy of the black and white version, and was enthralled.

Like Tati's later work, “Jour de Fete,” or “Festival Day,” or “The Big Day,” has no plot. It's simply a charming recreation of the day that the carnival comes to a rustic town, with spot-on characterizations of the inhabitants, including a technology-obsessed postman, played by the writer/director himself.

It's postwar France, and in the film tent that the carnival brings to town, they're showing a newsreel about the latest advances in mail delivery in the United States. Hilarity ensues.

But the best reason that “Jour de Fete” fits my theme today, is the fact that way back in 1948, Tati filmed the movie two ways – black and white, and color. Unfortunately, he chose a color system that didn't catch on, called ThomsonColor. In fact, it was impractical, if not impossible, to process back then, so Tati released the film in black and white, with a few spots of color, which he himself painstakingly hand-painted, frame by frame, in the same manner that Georges Melies used at the turn of the 20^th Century. I imagine that Tati himself must have seen Melies work when he was a boy, and was metaphorically standing on Melies' shoulders. (Scorcese pays homage to Melies in his award-winning recent film, “Hugo.”)

Here's the kicker: A few years ago, it became technologically possible to convert Tati's full color version into reality, and his daughter, Sophie Tatischeff, oversaw it. Here's a teaser.

A Tati fan in Europe has created comparisons between the versions, which you can see here.

And so, yes, it exists today, although not commercially available for those of us on this side of the Atlantic to see. Unless, of course, you know someone with enough tech know-how to find it online, and copy it so that you can see it on your computer. Thank goodness, I do.