For a perfect day, spend the pre-crowd morning at the Whitney's big William Eggleston show, soaking up images from the 1960s and early 1970s. Somehow, a shot of a ketchup bottle on a countertop is evocative in his lens. I often wonder, when looking at old photographs, why the objects and the people of the present time fail to evoke much of anything, and if they will eventually come to life decades from now.
Photo: William Eggleston, Eggleston Artistic Trust
After the show, head downtown and walk into a living Eggleston photograph at Prime Burger on 51st near Madison. Here, as if by magic, the present moment gains poignancy, snapshots turn into something resembling art. It's the place, with its woodgrain paneling and conical ceiling lamps, its long diner counter, and (most enchanting) its comfortably infantilizing seats with highchair-style swinging trays.
Customers at the counter look momentarily alienated and tired, bathed in Eggleston hues of rust, ochre, and brown. The waiters, in their white valet jackets, have come from another age to serve you burgers, fries, and root-beer floats that overflow in a bubbling eruption of foam.
The plain maroon awning outside will tell you nothing about what's on the inside. This hidden gem used to be Hamburg Heaven, founded in 1938, frequented by stars like Rita Hayworth and Henry Fonda (more recently SJP), mentioned in Breakfast at Tiffany's and The Apartment (“So I figure, a man in his position, he's going to take me to 21 and El Morocco--instead, he takes me to Hamburg Heaven and some schnook's apartment.”)
The 51st Street location turned into Prime Burger in 1965. It has not been renovated since.
Stopped in time, locked into your chair, you feel like a child. You order more than you can eat, consider a slice of coconut cake. The other diners in your cubicle do the same, going wide-eyed when the delicacies are delivered. At lunchtime, on a Saturday anyway, they are mostly tourists. They are excited to be here, discovering the true wonders of New York City. And so are you.