Harlem on my mind

The Harlem of my imagination is the one full of great African-American artists doing their things: writers, dancers, musicians, painters…the whole glorious mix of the Harlem Renaissance. Who with my musical interests wouldn’t love to go back in time to the Savoy Ballroom or a hoppin’ rent party?

On the other hand, my English-Irish grandmother—the farthest thing from either black or artistic—was born there in 1888.

And it began as a little Dutch farming village, miles and miles north of New Amsterdam.

Now it’s again changing fundamentally.

An interesting article in this morning’s New York Times

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