Show Me Something Good

Give me buildings, give me dresses, give me food and wine. I am so happy it's January and life as I know and need it has resumed.

I got the ball rolling at the Virginia Center for Architecture for the Design 2010 opening and reception. The competition awards recognition to the best examples of architecture, interior design and preservation projects from the last year, all done by Virginia firms. Go, local.

Each of the projects shown had merit (as judged by a jury), but some really caught my attention. An office building in a Baltimore, for instance, used waste metal panels from a local bike cog manufacturer to define a wall. Cool enough, but made all the more so by the fact that it was meant to reflect the strong bike culture in that office.

They even had one of the panels on display, which I was dying to touch, but the sign said not to (why, because I might hurt the metal?). What a clever and meaningful use for a waste product.

Winners included projects as diverse as the renovation of the 1818 Stephen Decatur house in Washington to the recent expansion of the VMFA, with buildings at UVA, Rice University and Washington and Lee in between.

The renovation of the Art Deco Henrico Theater was especially compelling, being so close to home. Paint analysis was used to determine the theater's original interior colors (red, orange and silver) and both the carpet and wall tile were meticulously recreated to ensure historical accuracy. Now I know I need to see that theater for myself.

Having satisfied my architecture jones, I left to meet a friend at Amuse. To my surprise, the Wearable Art fashion show was in full progress, having been rescheduled from its original date due to snow.

We arrived at the perfect time to catch the last catwalk featuring all the models and designers in their finery. The atrium was packed with family and friends of the high-school designers and models involved, but we managed to find a place from which to take it all in.

The outfits were, for the most part, over the top in the way that only fashion designed for haute couture or by high school students can be. Lots of bubble dresses, trains and enormous accessories, all wildly impractical.

Two things struck me. One was the prevalence of male designers; there were plenty of teen aged guys willing to show their designing talents to the world.

Second was the contrast between the models and designers. For the most part, the designers dressed in a completely low-key manner and loped behind their creatively-garbed models who strutted for all they were worth.

From there we dodged people to make it upstairs to a packed Amuse. Bartender Stephen greeted me as we sat down at two center stools. We heard about the cocktail of the evening (lemon and lime juices, Maker's Mark and a splash of Bordeaux) and ordered one to share, finding it pretty and surprisingly tasty.

Friend did the ordering duties, choosing the 2008 Chateau Ste. Michelle Cabernet Sauvignon and the cheese plate so we would be fortified for some good chatting since it had been a while since our last in-depth conversation.

She told me about her new position, I explained why I still haven't started dating, she shared her insight on several people she knows better than I do and we talked about restaurants, new and old. Some topics never die.

We tasted some faux absinthe (I tell you, it's everywhere lately) as well as the new Wasmund's rye spirit, a single malt rye from Rappahannock. And then the place was suddenly flooded with light.

No one was sure what caused it, but several customers called it "cruel" and the staff scrambled to dim the lights, no easy maneuver given that the lighting system is French and no one fully understands how to work it. But we were about ready to go anyway, so we paid up and I thanked Stephen for yet another excellent evening at Amuse.

As the guy sitting a stool away had acknowledged to me earlier, "This is the best bar in the neighborhood." I know what he means.

We decided to make Six Burner our ending point and slid in just in time to get a plate of fried oysters in a creamy sriracha sauce before the kitchen closed. The three tables around us provided the low-key chatter to accompany the Motown soundtrack as we ate.

I couldn't have been more pleased to see that the featured red was Warwick Pinotage, one of my very favorite grapes (gamy, smokey and, according to friend's superior nose, "smells like bacon") and a shoe-in to be my choice whenever I see it on a menu (which is not nearly often enough).

Bartender Josh kept us amused with tales of recording rap bands, recent road trips and rock god posturing. He also asked me what good shows were coming up, the same thing my friend had asked me just minutes before. What do I look like, a walking music calendar?

You're not seeing the full picture, my friends. It isn't only about music, but it does have to grab me.

Like cog panels, bubble dresses and local rye. It just has to be interesting.