Entries Tagged 'New York, NY' ↓

I was called to jury duty this week, at the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York. More than one hundred of us got summonses to report to the federal courthouse at 500 Pearl Street in Lower Manhattan bright and early at 8:30 this past Monday morning.

The Daniel Patrick Moynihan United States Courthouse is a fairly modern multi-story structure tucked behind some of the more stately old court buildings we’re used to seeing. Just off Centre Street in Foley Square, the neighborhood is a maze of city, state and federal buildings on streets now blocked off by security gates with armed officers in little booths. I know security was always tight, but I have to figure it has been heightened in this post-9/11, war on terrorism era.

Entering the building, we were obliged to go through a screening checkpoint reminiscent of the airport, but far less onerous. The federal security officers could teach the TSA a thing or two about courtesy. Cell phones, Blackberries and digital cameras are not allowed in the building, so we had to check those. Then we checked ourselves into a large, attractively appointed jury waiting room, with plush leather seating, named in honor of Justice Constance Baker Motley where after dispensing with some paperwork and watching a short film on jury service, we waited…and waited…and waited until one of the courtrooms upstairs called down in need of jurors.

That first day, the call came around 10 or so. Names were announced and a pool of jurors was taken upstairs. A short while later a second group was also called. The rest of us were left to read, sleep or go to the bathroom, but never wander too far from the waiting area. Now in a typical day, I read a lot of news sources, but mostly online. For the first time in ages I got to read the entire New York Times in print form. I can’t say I’m better for it. Doing nothing for an entire day is just plain tedious.

Shortly after four, and after some of the earlier called jurors had returned to the room, apparently unpicked for trial, they dismissed us all with instructions to call a telephone number the next day to find out when or if we’d be needed again. All of us had been told we were subject to service anytime over the next two weeks.

Now I’m all for doing my civic duty and have certainly criticized juries that have come back with questionable verdicts in high profile cases. But I hate being at the mercy of someone else’s schedule, and frankly the prospect of having to decide someone else’s fate is quite intimidating. I’d rather have been at the office. The upside to all of this however, is that once we’re done, we are exempt from jury duty in federal or state court for four years.

Wednesday we had to return, but only half of us were there. Those who had been called Monday were done with their service. After a short wait, they took all of us upstairs to a courtroom where jury selection was to begin for a criminal drug-related case. A Spanish-speaking male defendant was accused of distribution. There were 58 of us, of whom 34 were seated in the jury box for preliminary screening. The rest would be slotted in as others got screened out. Yours truly was lucky number 30.

This is the part where it got amusing. It seems jury duty is one of those things nobody really wants to do although we all recognize the value of it. The judge reviewed a lengthy questionnaire relevant to the case and asked us to state if there were any aspects of it that might make it difficult for us to be objective. Some of the creative ways in which people tried to disqualify themselves bordered on laugh-out-loud funny. Anybody who lived within ten miles of the crime scene tried to claim they were familiar with that area, but upon further questioning from the judge, had to admit they just knew the name of the street but had no real awareness of anything that happened there.

I had my own ace in the hole. Because of where I work I figured there was no way the prosecution would want me. In a sidebar conversation in judge’s chambers I tried to milk that even further, talking about some of our dealings with the Justice Department and my feelings that they sometimes follow an agenda that has nothing to do with the pursuit of the truth. Again, I was pressed as to my ability to be objective and had to fess up that I probably could put all that aside. It’s amazing how a face-to-face with a judge, with opposing counsel, the defendant, his interpreter, a court reporter and clerks around makes you tell the truth.

By the end of Wednesday, and through two cuts, I was still in the field of 34. As we sullenly departed together at the end of the day, someone remarked, “This is one unhappy elevator.”

Thursday morning, we were all back in the courtroom trying to whittle the cast down to 12 jurors and 2 alternates. Right off the top, some people were excused for cause based on the previous days interviews. The court clerk filled in those slots with members of the original field of 58, then the one person who remained was dismissed. Now the judge interviewed us one-by-one, to find out who we were, where we were from, the kinds of things we read or tv shows we watched, hobbies and interests. It was a strange touchy-feely moment that allowed the lawyers to gain better insight into who they wanted to keep before using their peremptory challenges. It was also some jurors last opportunity to provide disqualifying information.

One Black woman made sure to mention her interest in African American History and openly displayed her copy of The Autobiography of Malcolm X from her front row seat opposite the prosecution’s table. Several White jurors mentioned friends in law enforcement. Everybody it seemed was a fan of Law & Order.

After a short break, the moment of truth arrived. The judge, counsel from both sides, the court reporter and court clerk all huddled on the side and pored over the big board where our names were posted corresponding to our seats in the jurors box. They would pull out a name and both sides would look at it, giving a silent yea or nay we couldn’t hear from our side of the room. We speculated as to whether they were separating out the ones they wanted to keep or the people who would be dismissed. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife.

Then with an understated professionalism befitting a person who probably does this a hundred times a year, the court clerk read off the names of the jurors who were dismissed. It was quiet enough to hear a butt clinch. You’d have thought she was pulling lottery numbers.

As each of us heard our name read, we tried not to seem too happy, but failed in our mission. I don’t personally remember hearing anyone else’s name after she read mine. A child-like end-of-the-school-year giddiness came over all of us. The judge thanked us for our time and we were free to leave. The herd of us galloped to the elevators, leaving behind our somewhat stunned friends we had made over the past three days who now made up the jury. One man who sat next to me and had retired from his profession earlier this month, had a dazed look on his face as he muttered, “I can’t believe they picked me.”

In one of those New York moments, where strangers bond in an instant then go their separate ways never to see each other again, several of us passed each other on the sidewalk as we made our way to subways. The only other Black man on the jury pointed out that fact to me and that we’d both been dismissed, as were several other Black and Latin women. As I contemplated my own freedom from this civic responsibility, I was now forced to ponder the kind of trial that would ultimately take place.

New York City is always a cultural oasis and the summer time seems to be when arts and entertainment events, or the announcement of future happenings, are in abundance. With gas prices being what they are, and “staycations” the new, less expensive way to enjoy time off, venturing around town seems the best bet.

Here’s a peak at some upcoming entertainment options:

The Tony Award-winning choreographer Bill T. Jones will direct and choreograph a new musical about Fela Kuti, slated to open in September.

“Fela!” was written by Jim Lewis along with Jones, who won a Tony last year for his choreography of “Spring Awakening” and who is also artistic director of the Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company. The play is based on the life of the legendary Human Rights activist and Nigerian Afrobeat musician, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, who died in 1997 of AIDS-related illness. Fela spent years as a political prisoner after founding the political party Movement of the People, and is known for bringing huge bands to the stage, including many singers, dancers, percussionists, brass musicians, and guitarists. His music, which blends jazz with African beats and lyrics that demanded change and equality in his country, will be performed in the show by the Brooklyn group Antibalas.

The show will run at the 37 Arts theater in Manhattan from September 4 to September 21.

Joe’s Pub, the intimate nightclub performance space at The Public Theater, is celebrating its 10-year anniversary with an unprecedented 300 shows from September through December. During that time, Joe’s Pub will welcome back many of the artists who have had their US debuts at Joe’s Pub, recorded live albums there, or got their break in the music industry through showcases at Joe’s Pub.

Among the returning stars is one of our favorites, Billy Porter, who will do two shows there, December 7 and 8. Porter calls his show The Contemporary American Standard, and will do songs made famous by Stevie Wonder, Anita Baker, Donnie Hathaway, Oleta Adams, John Legend, Bonnie Raitt, James Taylor, India.Arie and others.

10th Anniversary tickets go on sale Thursday, July 17, 2008.

Ntozake Shange’s powerful mid-’70s “choreo-poem,” for colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf, is getting a Broadway revival at the Circle in the Square Theatre. Previews start August 19, with a scheduled opening on September 8. India.Arie is set to star and three time Tony Award winner Hinton Battle will choreograph this play which dramatizes the struggles and journey toward self respect experienced by black women in America.

Another 1970’s black theater revival, The First Breeze of Summer, by playwright Leslie Lee, is being staged by the Signature Theatre Company, August 5 to September 28.

Signature Theatre is celebrating the historic Negro Ensemble Company, which originally staged this play in 1975 on Broadway. The show takes place over the course of one sweltering weekend in June, as the struggles of three generations of the Edwards family collide. Gremmar, the Edwards family matriarch, recalls her past and considers its legacy for her children and grandchildren as they confront the choices that will define their futures. Leslie Lee’s Obie-Award winning play is a timeless portrait of family bonds and coming of age. Ruben Santiago-Hudson will direct.

Although a long way off, another revival of another classic theatre piece was announced this week, to some considerable interest. A new Broadway production of the landmark musical West Side Story, directed by librettist Arthur Laurents, will begin previews Feb. 23, 2009. This production will introduce the unprecedented element of selectively weaving Spanish throughout both the book and songs.

Laurents, who earned solid reviews (and a 2008 Tony nomination) for staging the current Broadway run of Gypsy, stated, “This show will be radically different from any other production of West Side Story ever done. The musical theatre and cultural conventions of 1957 made it next to impossible for the characters to have authenticity. Every member of both gangs was always a potential killer even then. Now they actually will be. Only Tony and Maria try to live in a different world…”

West Side Story has music by Leonard Bernstein, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and a book by Laurents. The staging will retain the original choreography of late director Jerome Robbins, who conceived the project by transposing Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet to the turbulent streets of the Upper West Side in 1950’s New York City.

Casting information and on sale date for tickets will be announced later.

If eating out is more your style, New York City Restaurant Week—which is actually two weeks–runs July 21 through August 1. Over 200 restaurants will offer three-course prix-fixe dinners for $35.00 and lunch at $24.07.

Finally, jazz trumpeter Jeremy Pelt has released a new CD, November on the MAXJAZZ label. Possibly the most cost effective staycation you can have. Just stay at home and listen to music.

I came to the conclusion years ago that being in the New York City Gay Pride march was far more interesting than watching it. It’s the difference between being an active participant versus a passive observer. Besides I love to hear people cheer whenever I go by.

But in the weeks leading up to this year’s pride, I was in a bit of a quandary: who would I march with, or rather, whose float would I ride? See, just as I discovered the fun of being in the march, I also discovered that riding on the back of a flatbed truck from Fifth Avenue and 52nd Street down to Christopher Street in Greenwich Village was a helluva lot easier on my feet, ankles, knees and lower back than walking.

My former employer always had a float, but, well, they are my former employer. My current employer organized a contingent, but there was no plan for a float. I thought about some community-based organizations I used to be associated with, but again, those are past relationships and I didn’t know how welcoming they’d be just because I literally wanted a free ride. So like it or not, if I was gonna do it, it looked like I’d have to hoof it.

My friends in political circles had asked me awhile ago to be more involved with the gay community outreach efforts of the Obama campaign but for time and burnout reasons, I’ve been somewhat reluctant. But the email invite came more than a week ago, looking for Obama Pride marchers and well, I couldn’t resist. Smart move on my part. It was a blast.

More than 300 organizations and a half million people take part in the march. In terms of permit applications it is officially a march, not a parade; a march is a political event that comes with guaranteed first amendment rights that cannot be denied on the whim of some bureaucrat. Moving that many people into parade formation still takes coordination and patience however.

It officially started at noon, but our group and others lined up on W. 54th Street didn’t move until about two and a half hours later, just around the time the clouds burst, the first of three downpours on the day. Actress and former Golden Girls star, Rue McClanahan, rode ahead of us in a convertible as our celebrity Obama backer. Our band of about 60 sign-carrying, Obama t-shirt wearing, rain-soaked marchers kept up a steady, noisy series of chants and cheers that revved up a largely supportive crowd the entire distance. There were a few diehard Hillary supporters with rats hibernating in their butts, but they were outnumbered and even admonished at one point by one of the public address announcers to get behind the candidate, lest we see four more years of Republican mismanagement and indifference to LGBT causes.

Walking the route, you always bump into friends along the way, and today was no exception. Joining me in the Obama camp was even a fellow blogger. who I’m sure will have pictures of the event. Not with us, but present at the front of the line, was Mayor Michael Bloomberg and Governor David Paterson, who defied doctor’s orders and marched one day after undergoing cataract surgery. His appearance marked the first time a New York governor has marched during Gay Pride. He continues to score favorable points with the community.

I can only assume the Pride Fest down in the Village went on despite the rain. By the end my feet were swollen and in pain and it was all I could do to hobble up to 14th Street to get the train home. Wet and tired as I was, it was a fun day.

Related story: Celebrating Gay Pride and Its Albany Friend

After filming its first two seasons in Hollywood, the hit ABC television comedy Ugly Betty is picking up stakes and heading east to where its fictional story is set, New York City. LA’s loss is the Big Apple’s gain but it took some savvy legislation in Albany to make it all happen.

Ugly Betty stars Emmy and Golden Globe Award winner America Ferrera as Betty Suarez, the intelligent, hardworking, yet decidedly unglamorous publishing assistant at the cute-throat fashion industry bible, Mode magazine. She and her family reside in Queens while each day she navigates the corporate jungle in Manhattan. Except in reality, it was all done on the sound stage and backlot of a studio in Hollywood.

Series creator Silvio Horta and Ferrera secretly longed to have the show shot in New York and now, thanks to film and television production tax credits recently signed into law by New York Governor David A. Paterson, they’ll get their wish. The NYS Governor’s Office for Motion Picture and Television Development now offers credits covering up to 30% of the cost of production and an additional 5% is also available from the New York City Mayor’s Office of Film, Theatre & Broadcasting.

That’s the kind of incentive designed to give a shot in the arm to the local film industry and keep producers from traveling to places like Toronto, Canada to try to inexpensively recreate New York locations. As everyone knows, you can’t really fake New York even if you can make the movie more cheaply.

Regular viewers of shows like Sex and the City and the Law & Order franchise, know how this city is as much a character in those series as the actors themselves. Shooting Ugly Betty here will enable them to take advantage of real fashion industry locations unavailable anywhere else, upping the glamour quotient considerably. The show will reportedly use either Silvercup Studios in Long Island City (in the real borough of Queens) or Steiner Studios in Brooklyn, as its home base starting June 30.

Update: There are two sides to every story. My cousin who works in television production in Hollywood, sent me the text of an ad appearing in the trades, from the west coast-based crew of Ugly Betty who will be losing their jobs as a result of the move.

To Whom it Should Concern

Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, Members of the State Senate and State Assembly, Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, the Los Angeles City Council, and the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors:

We are writing to you because we just lost our jobs. We are the 300 plus members of the crew of the television show Ugly Betty. We were informed this Tuesday that the production of our show is moving to New York primarily because of the 35% tax incentives being offered by the state of New York. Instead of making good wages and paying our fair share of California state income tax, we will all be collecting Unemployment Benefits. In addition, we will certainly be cutting our spending back to the bone, which will not only cut back our sales tax contributions substantially, but it could end up costing the jobs of the people who provide services and products to us. Not only are these crew positions being lost; all of our local vendors are losing our business.

Our production buys: lumber, paint, wallpaper, cabinets, other building materials, office products, fabric, art supplies, computer equipment, food, beverages, flowers, film, makeup & hair products, wigs, insurance, jewelry, clothing, etc.

Our production rents: lighting equipment, sound equipment, video playback equipment, heavy machinery, office equipment, backdrops, costumes, furniture, scenery, props, soundstages, offices, parking facilities, cars, trucks, storage facilities, computers, camera equipment, grip equipment, editing equipment, drafting equipment, cell phones, computers, toilets, dumpsters, live plants, production trailers, tools, hardware, artwork, walkie talkies, etc.

Our production also uses the services of: dry cleaners, printers, location companies, Special Effects companies, utilities, caterers, payroll services, restaurants, security, Post Production Services, Clearance Houses, etc.

When we shoot on locations around Los Angeles we pay for permits; we pay homeowners & businesses for the use of their property, we hire police and fire department personnel, we pay for facility engineers, etc.

So, while the loss of our individual positions may be insignificant, the loss of this production is staggering. Now multiply this by all the other productions going to New York, New Mexico, Illinois, Louisiana, North Carolina and other states with incentives, not to mention Canada, New Zealand, Australia, Eastern Europe, etc. and the cost to the California state economy is monumental. We implore you to do everything in your power to level the playing field and bring our jobs back to California by enacting meaningful incentives to keep film and television production in our state.

Sincerely yours

The Crew of Ugly Betty

Shortly after it was announced, I was talking about the Sean Bell murder trial verdict Friday with a co-worker. She’s a young lawyer, whose family fled political unrest in Afghanistan when she was a child. Every day she works on cases related to the detention of Iraqi nationals at Guantanamo, so she knows a little bit about injustice. She was shocked by the acquittal of the three New York City Police officers. I wasn’t.

I’m 48 years old and I’ve been a black man living in America my whole life. I’ve seen this all too many times before. As I told her, the judicial system always gives police a free pass in wrongful death lawsuits. Always. It always gives them a free pass when the victim is black. Always.

Judges, district attorneys and police are all part of the same criminal justice system that is aligned to put so-called criminals behind bars, but rarely each other. After all, when the case is over, they still have to work together.

Remembering that in 2000 a jury in upstate Albany acquitted four police officers of the murder of an unarmed Amadou Diallo—after shooting him 41 times—I had mixed feelings when this case was to be tried in front of a judge and not a jury. Part of me said a judge might actually view the evidence objectively, understand the law and do the right thing.

Playing Saturday morning quarterback, the three defendants, Detectives Gescard F. Isnora, Michael Oliver and Marc Cooper probably should have been tried separately. They had varying degrees of culpability. Of the 50 shots fired by all three, Oliver shot 31 times, including a reload.

Despite whatever threats they thought they faced, the facts are clear. There was no gun in the Bell car and no shots fired by anyone in that car. Any threatening action with the movement of that car was predicated on the fact that Bell and his companions had no idea who the three men were who approached their car. Finally, through all the gunfire, at no time did the officers attempt to determine what the real dangers were. I reiterate, Detective Oliver even stopped to reload.

This morning my feelings are best described as a controlled rage. White people wonder why we have no faith in the criminal justice system. It is because it so seldom protects our interests. We are victimized by crime then victimized again by the system.

I wonder if the sitting junior Senator from New York will have the intestinal fortitude to comment on the outcome of this case?