Trip Diary | Arcosanti, Arizona

by Maleeha Sambur

I've been wanting to get to Arcosanti for years, and when the opportunity presented itself in the form of a friend's Arizona wedding, my husband and I jumped at the chance to spend a night there. We arrived in pitch dark after turning off the highway and bumping along an unpaved, unlit road, dodging prickly-pear cacti at every turn, and praying our shoddy rental car would stay the course. The harrowing drive proved well worth it, however. Over the next 16 hours, we were treated to a a dazzling night sky speckled with stars, watched the sunrise from the beautiful Sky Suite (a concrete-and-glass dream), and toured the facilities while learning about the life's work of Arcosanti's founder, the visionary architect and urban designer Paolo Soleri.  

24 Hours in Tokyo

by Kelly Britton

Tokyo may well be the world's greatest metropolis. Its 38 million residents live, work and play in an area roughly the size of LA county. An estimated 15 million people ride its subways each day, nearly three times that of the New York City subway system. It is also safe - the safest city in the developed world - and incredibly, unapologetically clean, with its white-gloved cabbies and spotless toilets. Drivers don't honk their horns, people don't shout. Even the homeless line up in orderly park tents, their shoes neatly arranged outside. 

But Tokyo is much more than a well-oiled machine. Around every corner is a bustling food market, a star-chitect designed glass tower, a blinding array of neon, an ancient, winding alley. Tokyoites are gluttons for more than food. History, sports, art, music, nature, fashion - residents of this great metropolis want for nothing. Take almost anything you can do, see, buy, or eat elsewhere, and Tokyo will do it better. Having lived in northern Japan for nearly three years, this city to end all cities also holds a very special place in my heart. And touching down for the sixth time, I am no less awed by its unparalleled style, scale, and energy than I was at first sight. 

Tangerine Reads | Breaking into James Baldwin's House

One of my favorite reads in recent months was this beautifully written piece in the New Yorker, by Thomas Chatterton Williams. (I should disclose that the writer is a friend, but I so thoroughly enjoyed the story and thought it too good not to share.) While on holiday in the Cote d'Azur, Williams and his cohorts - his wife and a friend - managed to sneak into the abandoned former home of one of his heroes, literary and cultural icon James Baldwin. The villa in Saint-Paul-de-Vence, where Baldwin resided from 1970 until his death in 1987, now languishes in a woeful state of neglect, and its fate remains unclear. Although slated to be razed by developers seeking to capitalize on its spectacular views, work seems to have stalled and the property remains largely untouched.

I enjoyed the story as much for its painterly rendering of the locale as for the glimpse into the thoughts and sensations the experience triggered in the mind of the writer, as he mulls over what exactly he was hoping to find inside the home, ruminates on Baldwin's decision to take up residence there, segues into an exploration of why his voice has experienced such a resurgence as of late, and grapples with the thought that the crumbling physical vestiges of his footprint in France might soon be erased. 

I won't spoil it for you, but suffice it to say that its well worth a read, and I won't blame you if it inspires a jaunt to le Midi. TCW's description of the fascinating La Colombe d'Or had me mentally packing my bags. Having played host to a formidable roster of artists, writers, and other intriguing persons, the walls of the 1920's restaurant-turned-retreat and former Baldwin haunt must reverberate with stories. 

Louise Bourgeois Home Will Soon Open to the Public

by Maleeha Sambur

Louise Bourgeois' Chelsea home will open to the public this summer through the Easton Foundation, offering admirers of the French-born sculptor a new window into how she lived and worked. The brownstone on West 20th Street, which Bourgeois and her husband Robert Goldwater purchased in 1962, remains largely unchanged since her passing in 2011, with garments still hanging in closets and countertops cluttered with toiletries, which make it seem as if she's only stepped out for an errand. The townhouse's four floors are imbued with personal history -- it's where Bourgeois coped with the loss of her husband, flourished as an artist, held her famous Sunday salons, and became involved in activism -- and this intimate glimpse seems to reflect her pragmatic, unfussy attitude towards the business of living. 

Head over to the New York Times to read more and check out photographer Nicholas Calcott's wonderful images here. 

Louisiana Museum of Modern Art

Words by Maleeha Sambur

While traveling through Scandinavia this past summer, I had the opportunity to visit Denmark's Louisiana Museum of Modern Art. Perched upon a verdant hill overlooking the Øresund Sound in the quiet town of Humlebaek, just 25 miles north of Copenhagen, its indoor/outdoor blended environment offers a unique atmosphere in which to take in a vast collection of works from the likes of Alexander Calder, Joan Miró, Jean Arp, Pablo Picasso, Alberto Giacometti, as well as a diverse roster of contemporary talents that includes Richard Serra, Yayoi Kusama, Doug Aitken, and Mike Kelley. One could easily while away an entire day exploring the sprawling grounds, encountering large-scale works tucked within the greenery, gliding through glass-walled corridors, stopping to sea-gaze and breathe in the fresh air (Sweden can be glimpsed across the water), and taking advantage of the excellent event programming, which includes engaging workshops, art evenings, and concerts for all ages. 

Opened in 1958, the Louisiana Museum was founded on the idea that art was not just for the elite, and could be enjoyed by anyone. The museum's thoughtful, discreet modern design plays to that principle by gracefully merging architecture with the natural environment, offering visitors an immersive way to experience art as they wander through sun-dappled rooms and meander along beautifully landscaped forest paths, with the seasons providing an ever-changing backdrop. The museum's low, horizontal buildings are connected by glass hallways, a cafe opens out to the sea breeze, and gentle landscaping invites visitors to take off on a treasure hunt, stumbling upon arresting sculptures and playful elements (a long, bumpy slide is a favorite). 

In case you were wondering about the Louisiana's name, it was bestowed by the museum's founder, Knud W. Jensen, who purchased an old country house on the hilltop and turned it into a museum, calling it "Louisiana" after his three wives - all of whom were named Louise!  Jensen employed architects Jørgen Bo and Vilhelm Wohlert to undertake the task, and organized the museum exhibitions according to what he called the "sauna principle" -- dividing the works into hot (celebrated artists that would draw crowds) and cold (talented but lesser-known, contemporary artists) so that visitors who came to see the more famous works would also be challenged to experience something new and exciting. 

If you find yourself in Copenhagen or thereabouts, it's a can't-miss experience.

Getting there from Copenhagen:

Check out the outbound and return DSB train timetables from central Copenhagen (Kobenhavn H), Osterport, or Norreport stations to Humlebaek Station. The ride takes about 35 minutes. From there, it's a ten minute walk through a quiet residential area to get to Louisiana. There will be signage and likely other museum-goers walking in its direction, but I always like to have a screen shot of the walking route on my phone just in case. The museum opens at 11AM, and I highly recommend getting there close to opening so that you can take advantage of a full day (you might never want to leave). There is a lovely cafe on site for lunch, but it can get very crowded, especially on a nice day, so eat a decent breakfast before heading out in case you don't want to bother. 

Louisiana Museum of Modern Art
GI. Strandveg 13
3050 Humlebæk
Tues-Fri 11AM-10PM
Sat-Sun 11AM-6PM
Admission for 18+: 115DK (approx. $17.61 USD; $15.45€)

Photos by Tawfeeq Khan & Maleeha Sambur

Tangerine Radio | The Lijadu Sisters

by Maleeha Sambur

Spotify Premium has been serving up some spot-on recommendations in our household lately, including this tune by the Lijadu Sisters, which has been the best addition to my music library in a very long while. 

A national treasure in their native Nigeria, Taiwo and Kehinde Lijadu are identical twin sisters who put out a number of critically acclaimed records between the 60's and 80's, a time when there weren't many female musicians making waves on the male-dominated Nigerian music scene. Singing in both Yoruba and English, their sound has been described as a mix between Afrobeat, Reggae, Jazz, Funk, Disco, and Waka, and "Come on Home" feels warm, instantly familiar, and, well, sisterly -- their voices interact playfully, inseparably, hinting at some secret telepathic twin language.

In 2014, at age 65, the duo re-emerged with an album, saw re-issues of some of their out-of-print albums by Knitting Factory Records, and performed with David Byrne and the Atomic Bomb! Band in a series of tribute concerts celebrating William Onyeabor. Here's hoping we continue to hear more from them. 

Also, how amazing are those earrings? 

MicroTeatro México

by Jennifer Saracino

One night soon after I had moved to Mexico City, my friends announced that they had a surprise for me. They took me down a little alley in Santa Maria la Ribera, and we stopped just outside a nondescript building with a sign that read 'Microteatro.' In the Microteatro, you can watch a 'Micro Obra' (mini play) that's just 15 minutes long with 15 audience members. 

For our first show, we entered a tiny room with a bed that took up most of the space. Suddenly, an actor beside me started speaking to another woman in the room. She played a prostitute, eager to begin, but he, instead, began to recount a past memory. He spoke softly, gazing down at the floor, but then looked up . . . directly at me! 

The actor moved towards me and grabbed my hand. I looked at my friends in panic. He motioned for me to lie down in the bed. I prayed that I wouldn't have to speak - fortunately, I didn't. I was more of a prop, and the actor recounted the memories of his mother's funeral, while looking down at me, clasping my hand. 

I was mesmerized by the Microteatro. The owners fully optimized the entire building, making every room an intimate stage. The proximity to the actors themselves gave each of us a voyeuristic feeling - like we were privy to a conversation we shouldn't be hearing. 

The lobby of the Microteatro was filled with contemporary art and the laughter and lively discussions of its visitors. The first floor boasted a bar and antojitos, or little snacks, for purchase. 

If you're interested in experimental, accessible theater, I highly recommend the Microteatro even if you're not fluent in Spanish. The shows are short and direct, so they are easier to understand than a longer production. I'm not completely fluent, and I burst into quiet tears after one particularly poignant play.  But be warned: you might just get pulled onstage. 

MicroTeatro México
Roble 3
Santa María la Ribera, Cuauhtemoc, 06400
http://www.microteatro.mx

An earlier version of this post appeared on my blog, Something to Write Home About

Atacama Desert in Bloom

by Maleeha Sambur

I count visiting the otherworldly landscapes of the Atacama Desert in Northern Chile among my most memorable travel experiences, but I can't imagine how incredible it must be to be there right now: The region is suddenly exploding in color after unusually heavy rainfall (caused by El Niño) produced a spring bloom of startling intensity, cloaking the Altiplano in vivid pink hues. It won't last long, however, and I wish I could teleport myself there right now to take it all in. 

With an average elevation of 13,000 feet, the Atacama is the world's highest-elevation desert, and also the driest non-polar desert on Earth (central parts of it haven't seen rain in 300+ years), Typically only the hardiest of plant species can survive under such harsh conditions, making this bloom all the more special. 

You can read more about it and check out photos at Smithsonian Magazine. 

Comakwon Cafe

by Maleeha Sambur

Cereal's photos of Comakwon Cafe, in the Heyri Arts Village in South Korea, piqued my interest in learning more about the creative enclave. Situated in the countryside along the Han River, an hour north of Seoul, the village was the vision of an artists collective in the 90's. Some of South Korea's top architects were enlisted to design its beautifully minimal concrete structures, which house galleries, coffee shops, and cafes. If you're ever in Seoul, it would make for a great day trip.

Photos by Rosa Park for Cereal

Trip Diary | Marfa, Texas

There is much to fall in love with in Marfa, and much of it has been written about ad nauseum - the unique, charmingly offbeat vibe of a remote little speck of a town with a lone stoplight, peopled (sparsely) with the friendliest folk, where tumbleweeds dance merrily across desert plains; the air of supernatural mystery surrounding the Marfa Lights; its history as a backdrop for John Wayne westerns; and of course, Donald Judd, the man whose artistic legacy has been intrinsically fused with the town since his arrival in the 1970s. 

Eager to immerse myself in all of this, I traveled to Marfa with my friends Sylvia and Jen in September of 2014. After flying into El Paso from our respective home cities - New York, Seattle, New Orleans - we crashed with Sylvia and Jen's parents (who happened to live there at the time) for the night. The next morning, we borrowed their car, filled up the gas tank, and embarked on a three hour drive through the flat expanse of West Texas. We were mostly alone on the road, save for the occasional  truck rumbling past, or the odd train snaking along in the distance, kicking up dust trails in its wake. We found ourselves enjoying an uninterrupted vista that was mostly sky, across which enormous white clouds gathered and rolled before our eyes, joining and separating in their own fluffy drama.  Thoroughly mesmerized by the cloud theater, the solitude of the open road, and the warmth of excellent company, my mind was suddenly light years from New York. 

Trip Diary | Marrakech

by Maleeha Sambur

My husband and I landed in Marrakech in a Saturday afternoon and checked into the gorgeous six-room Riad Dixneuf la Ksour, where we were welcomed with delicious mint tea and almond biscuits in the tranquil central courtyard, tucked away from the cacophony of the streets. The riad was a study in understated elegance, each turn revealing another simple yet perfectly composed vignette.  After exploring its beautifully appointed spaces and taking in a birdseye view of the city against the backdrop of the snow-covered Atlas Mountains from the rooftop, we went for a walk through the labyrinthine alleys of the medina. As the melodious call to evening prayer reached our ears, we found ourselves at Jemaa el-Fnaa square just in time to watch the setting sun wash the buildings in rose gold hues and observe crowds of people shuffling off to the nearby mosque. 

As evening fell, we walked through the square's storied open-air market, which sprang to life after prayer time. The atmosphere vibrated with energy, awakening our groggy, jet-lagged senses. Under the enchanting glow of string lights and patterned lanterns, we took in the scene, charmed as much by the vendors' clever multilingual sales pitches as their intriguing wares. The way they switched effortlessly between languages conjured in my mind the world of the nomadic traders, caravans, and global marketplaces of old. Fortunetellers beckoned and food stalls enticed us with tantalizing aromas as we walked past carts piled high with dates, nuts, and spices, magicians playing tricks with rapt audiences, and medicine men of dubious qualifications touting miracle cures and herbal remedies. 

Tangerine Radio | Exuma

by Maleeha Sambur

With temperatures reaching into the 70s this week, November in New York is feeling more like June, and the effects of this El Niño-driven seasonal regression are being felt not just in my wardrobe, but also in my headphones, as warm weather tunes mingle with my winter standards. One summer remnant in particular - Exuma's "Rushing Through the Crowd" - is still on heavy rotation. 

Over the summer, I stumbled, quite by accident, across a 1972 single by the late Bahamian artist. I was working with a swimwear client, and while shooting at her studio, we found ourselves in need of some props. She pulled out a box of discarded records she'd rescued from the sidewalk, from which we plucked a dusty 45 featuring an illustration of Adam and Eve in a tropical Eden on the label. We put it on, and just seconds into its junkanoo/calypso/freak-folk goodness, I was smiling. If you're looking to deny winter's approach for a bit longer, or just in need of a mood-lifter, this should get you shimmying. 

Coqui Coqui | Valladolid, Mexico

by Maleeha Sambur

Though all four of the Coqui Coqui boutique hotels are stunning, it's the Valladolid location that tops my list of dream accommodations. Centrally situated on the oldest street in town, the one-room hotel's beautifully appointed guest house is located directly above the Coqui Coqui perfumery and comes outfitted with a private terrace, stone plunge pool, and freestanding tub. In addition to the perfumeria, where you can stock up on the popular fragrances or play at concocting your own, the property also features a restaurant, an open air spa, and a library. 

If you've got a trip to the Yucatan planned, Valladolid is well worth a detour, and a nice escape from more scene-y Tulum, offering quiet, picturesque streets dotted with colorful facades, delicious authentic cuisine, and proximity to ancient ruins and glittering turquoise cenotes. 

Casa Wabi

by Maleeha Sambur

Ever since I read about Fundación Casa Wabi in this 2014 WSJ story, my heart has been set on visiting. The stunning arts center situated along Mexico's Pacific Coast, not far from Puerto Escondido, is the result of the combined efforts of a formidable team of talent: Conceived by artist Bosco Sodi and designed by Tadao Ando, its 66 tropical acres also feature a contemporary art collection within a botanical garden designed by Alberto Kalach, and Patricia Martin serves as Director.

The foundation functions as both an artists residence and a haven for members of the neighboring communities, and Sodi has launched an arts education program with the aim of connecting resident-artists with locals - particularly children and young adults - through collaborative, socially and environmentally beneficial projects. 

The structures (a mix of residences, studios, and mixed-use spaces) meld modernist design elements with natural materials and native techniques. The buildings are a beautifully complementary hybrid of Ando's signature concrete walls with the traditional palapa-style thatched roofs that are common throughout the region, and open-sided rooms allow indoor and outdoor spaces to blend seamlessly. The convergence of art, architecture, and nature in this particular setting - between the rough surf of a windswept beach and the Sierra Madre del Sur mountains - makes for an otherworldly and truly unique atmosphere.

Photos by Nicholas Alan Cope for WSJ