October 22, 2025
Blog
A night at the Met
That exquisite moment when the orchestra tunes before the overture begins
A living, vibating breath before the music, filled with anticipation and promise.
Yesterday I went to the opera.
I’m a big fan of drama and stories told through song—especially at the Met.
There’s something about the whole experience that fascinates me: the grandeur, the beauty, the way the music and storytelling carry you somewhere else.
I’m a big fan of drama and stories told through song—especially at the Met.
There’s something about the whole experience that fascinates me: the grandeur, the beauty, the way the music and storytelling carry you somewhere else.
And maybe it’s also an adolescent memory of Moonstruck, where Nicolas Cage’s character, Ronny, dreams of taking Cher’s character, Loretta, to the opera.
“I love two things,” he says…
I had dressed the part—dark trousers, a button-down shirt, a fine sweater, and an overcoat.
I stopped by a mirror before entering and thought, I look fine.
It was a date with myself, so I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.
And the Stars where shinning, and the earth was parfumed
The woman sitting next to me wore a shimmering gown, jeweled stones catching the light—designed by someone from Dubai, she told me during intermission.
(Of course, I couldn’t resist asking when I saw her.)
(Of course, I couldn’t resist asking when I saw her.)
People still dress up for the opera.
It’s one of the few places where formality, elegance, and ritual still mean something.
That’s part of the magic—walking under the chandeliers, a glass of champagne in hand, surrounded by the eclectic spectacle of people who’ve taken the time to transform themselves.
It’s one of the few places where formality, elegance, and ritual still mean something.
That’s part of the magic—walking under the chandeliers, a glass of champagne in hand, surrounded by the eclectic spectacle of people who’ve taken the time to transform themselves.
I make it a point to attend at least one performance, exhibition, or art-related event every week.
This is New York—a city that always offers something.
Like now, as I write this from a bench in Central Park, a warm ray of sunlight falls across my notebook while a singer and a trumpet player perform The Girl from Ipanema.
This is New York—a city that always offers something.
Like now, as I write this from a bench in Central Park, a warm ray of sunlight falls across my notebook while a singer and a trumpet player perform The Girl from Ipanema.
But I’m diverting.
There aren’t many reasons to dress up anymore.
A wedding. A funeral. The opera.
A wedding. A funeral. The opera.
Now, I approach my portrait sessions with that same energy.
Each one is a moment of transformation—a reason to prepare, to dress up, to honor yourself.
Each one is a moment of transformation—a reason to prepare, to dress up, to honor yourself.
The orchard gate creacked, and a footstep grazed the sand
Like when our grandparents went to take that one professional portrait that still lives in their living room.
That’s the importance of a portrait—the understanding that this image will endure.
Yes, we have phones, selfies, and friends who document everything—but this is something different.
This is about slowing down.
Choosing what to wear, how to show up, how to be seen.
It’s about presence—and the quiet confidence of knowing you’re creating something that will last.
Dressing up for the part.
This is about slowing down.
Choosing what to wear, how to show up, how to be seen.
It’s about presence—and the quiet confidence of knowing you’re creating something that will last.
Dressing up for the part.
40 Portraits of New Yorkers is about giving yourself the experience of transformation—
choosing the right outfit, playing the right song, adjusting the lights, taking a moment to pause and reflect—
and ending up with one of the most beautiful portraits you’ll ever have.
You can have my word on it.
choosing the right outfit, playing the right song, adjusting the lights, taking a moment to pause and reflect—
and ending up with one of the most beautiful portraits you’ll ever have.
You can have my word on it.
And don’t worry, I won’t expect you to sing. 
