Shrine
Posted: May 27, 2014 Filed under: Harlem | Tags: TUESDAY TOILET TALK Comments Off on ShrineThe Delicioso Coco Helado carts have returned; summer is here once again. I grabbed a cup of coconut from a cart on 125th Street before turning up Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard to hear Anne Boccato sing with Gianni Gagliardi (saxophone), Quentin Angus (guitar), Bam Bam Rodriguez (bass), and Jay Sawyer (drums) yesterday. Fitting for a place called Shrine World Music Venue, each band member hailed from a different country, with the repertoire consisting of jazz and Brazilian music.
Arriving in between sets, I got to work right away documenting the two restrooms. Go down the stairs under the restroom sign that emits red light and you will see a door marked ladies on your left and a door marked men on your right. The light switch for the ladies room works the opposite of the standard way; press down to turn on the light and up to turn off. The light switch is conveniently illuminated when off so that you can find it without fumbling in the dark.
A metal basket visibly filled with toilet paper hangs in the corner, putting any concerns about running out of paper to rest. And if you had to sit for a while, though I wouldn’t sit on those toilets without seat covers, you could pass the time looking up at the vinyl record sleeves on the ceiling. They also cover other areas of the venue, leaving gaps where the sleeves were poorly aligned and empty 12”x12” spots where albums might have been before falling off.
Anne’s dad and percussionist, Rogerio, clapped along rhythms from the audience, while his daughter sang and played caxixi at times. The father-daughter connection was pretty cute and reminded me of how I miss my dad. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a pilot just like my dad. When I became a teenager, I wanted to become a psychologist so that I could argue using jargon against my dad, who was then pursuing graduate studies in counseling. Now that I am old enough to be classified as an adult, I realized that I have become a writer, just like my dad.
I checked out Anne’s brother’s senior show at Cooper Union a couple weeks prior and have heard Rogerio play many times in the past. Now I just have to go to Anne’s mom’s art show and I will be an official Boccato family groupie. Either because I have nearly achieved groupie-status or because they are a wonderful family, the Boccatos gave me a ride back home from the Shrine.
Upon returning home, I hung out with a few friends including Adeyemi from Lagos in Nigeria, a soon-to-be data scientist who loves to sing Frank Sinatra. Ade gave me the translation of “Where’s the restroom?” in Yoruba and explained that literally translated, the phrase means, “Where is the defecation room?” I think I want to start saying that in English.