The astonishing thing about Georges Seurat's "A Sunday
Afternoon on the Island of Grande Jatte” (1884), the thing that elevates this
painting far above your garden-variety masterwork—is its sublime, concentrated
simplicity. It portrays a sacred world in the land of the ordinary where time
has stopped, and where participants, with almost preternatural intensity, go
about their private afternoon: Parisians enjoy an afternoon in the park by the
river (Seine)... here's a dog... there's a monkey... a child skips... a
trumpeter plays—all enveloped in a sunlit beauty that allows us, indeed forces
us, to see the extraordinary in the routine, in the small stuff. And in
capturing the intensity of what is, Seurat joyously illustrates the essential
truth and validity of simple pleasures.
So much so, that we decided to spirit the idea of the
painting to another time, to another city park by another river (our own
Hudson), with some very local friends. Of course, we used Photoshop instead of
Pointillism, et voila! Our May/June cover pays tribute to Seurat's transcendent
marvel of a painting, which proves that simple pleasures still rock—whether
they're playing a game of softball, eating homemade ice cream, or backing into
your spot at the drive-in.
It's a rich paradox that by participating in these simple
pleasures, our world is imbued with meaning, and with genuine riches. And even
in these benighted economic times, this kind of stuff is available to all of
us, just for the doing.
The celebration of what we can attain with ease is manifest
in other parts of this issue as well, whether drinking Brigit Binns'
world-class margarita; Paula Forman's hopeful transport via spring cleanup; Jonathon
Donald's coming to know his long-time home turf better and differently by
filming a documentary on it; rescuing a house from falling off a cliff into a
creek, as Bill Hellermann did; or simply doing your job, when it's doing what's
best for the country, like U.S. Rep. Maurice Hinchey, who has long served our
interests in New York's 22nd District.
Finally, while trekking through the Amazon in search of the
lost city of "Z” hardly constitutes a simple pleasure (though speaking
with New Yorker writer David Grann certainly was), we were struck by the similarity
between Colonel Percy Harrison Fawcett, the explorer Grann chronicles, and the
main man of our quadricentennial season, Henry Hudson. Both traveled to the far
side of paradise, each bringing a son with him. Both expeditions failed to
return: in Fawcett's case, after coming achingly close to discovering what he
sought (but still proving that at an advanced civilization and a jungle
environment are not mutually exclusive); and in Hudson’s, after seeking a
simpler route to the East (staying, we believe, at what would become the Stewart
IHouse site, just before giving up and turning back), but never really
understanding that he had already discovered something much greater than a mere
shortcut, something, to paraphrase F. Scott Fitzgerald, "commensurate to
his own ability to wonder": the New World.
For those who want to discover new worlds right here, right
now: If you have already subscribed, and there are quite a few of you: Thank
you. For those who promised to but haven't yet: We need you. Period. For those
of you who are reading this magazine and considering subscribing, please know
this: A publication of this quality requires reader support (alongside
advertisers'.) InsideOut has a new inevitability about it: We've gotten a lot
of subscriptions, but ask you to remain vigilant on our behalf. Please subscribe,
and encourage your friends and families to as well.
