Springtime in the Queen City

Sweet readers, I'm having a bit of a rough go right now. There is so much I want to do and write and achieve in the near future, but instead of doing it all at once and burning out spectacularly like I usually do, I’m forcing myself to slow down. I  really want to build lasting habits and not overwhelm myself so the pendulum doesn’t swing back and hit me in the face (again). My distracted lizard brain, however, cannot handle NOT doing all of it RIGHT NOW and is its shit: Why haven't you started on that one thing yet, and that other thing too, and you're taking too long to do something else, and oh, hey, remember that novel you’ve been working on for actual years now? It's been a process, to say the very least.

Slowing down sometimes feels like wasting what little precious time we have, especially when everything is a crisis, the minute hand creeping closer to Doomsday Midnight (just 90 seconds left–thanks, I hate it!). But it’s a good and necessary practice to slow down and take your time, my babes. So that's the theme for the Top 5 for this week: my favorite spaces in the City of Cincinnati to pause, look around, take a breath and enjoy the world around you.

Ohio Book Store

My personal gem in the Queen City's crown

I kind of don’t remember when I first discovered this bookstore on Main Street, a block east of the Aronoff Center; it feels like a space I've been in a thousand times. If you’re a book person, you know the thrill of stepping into a new shop, not knowing what you’ll find. Now multiply that by five floors of the most random, interesting, hilarious, obscure, and often way out-of-print books Ohio Book Store holds among its treasures.

The first floor main entrance feels like your usual used bookstore, with rare editions behind glass, and some more recent/popular books of the last 30 years or so on shelves and tables to peruse. As you climb the stairs, you'll seesections like “Ohio Politicians” and “Kentucky Genealogy,” then go up another level of metal stairs to discover rows upon rows of every kind of book you could possibly imagine. More than 300,000 books, to be precise. I love the treasure hunt of climbing to each floor, I love Ohio Book Store's basement, which is home to their bookbinding services and a cave of obscure pulp genre paperbacks, wacky sociopolitical diatribes from the 90's, accounts of Hollywood scandals and A-Z List celebrity memoirs.

I am not being hyperbolic here; Ohio Bookstore is one of my favorite places on this beautiful, dumb little space rock we’re all trying (some harder than others) not to blow up. I’ve uncovered some of my most bizarre and treasured finds there, and I always emerge with at least one new discovery, if not more. When my time comes and I am cremated, sprinkle a bit of me at the entrance under the awning, out of the way where someone won’t step on me and track me indoors to be mistaken for ordinary dust, and I will be at absolute peace.

Contemporary Arts Center

Defiantly out-of-place, yet perfectly incorporated

A couple blocks over from the Book Store on 6th and Walnut is the Contemporary Arts Center, extremely modern and abstract, and the first US project by the late visionary architect Zaha Hadid. I love this building so much precisely because it is so starkly different from its surroundings but still fits effortlessly within the downtown landscape. Unlike many museums, the CAC does not have a permanent collection, (the original was one of the first contemporary art museum in the country!) which allows for a huge range of art to be seen in more than 80,000 square feet of space, which somehow seems to shift and mold to accommodate the work as needed.

I have always enjoyed architecture, but working at the local firm that partnered to design and build the CAC gave me an even deeper appreciation, not just for the building, but for the delicate balance of form and function of architecture itself. When I finally got to visit, it was to see the equally stark yet somehow organic installations of sculptor Tara Donovan: a looming cloud of styrofoam cups suspended from the ceiling, a massive metal cube made of millions of straight pins, a transluscent undulating ocean landscape created by stacks of plastic cups, a towering coral reef built out of buttons.

If it sounds bizarre, that's because it was, but also one of the most impactful shows I’ve seen. It was at least a decade ago, so still-idealistic mid-20s Leigh was enthralled not only by the massive scale of the installations, but also the space that housed them, both made by women at the height of their creativity. The CAC is free to visit at the moment, and if you need respite from both city streets AND suburban sprawl, you can’t do much better than this impressive yet inviting space of concrete, steel, glass, and light.

Fountain Square

Classical yet timeless, as relevant now as ever

If you stroll a block north up to 5th from CAC, the dense central city opens up to reveal the Tyler Davidson fountain —better known as The Genius of Water— for which the square is named. It’s 43’ tall and 22 tons of solid bronze, topped by a 9’ statue of The Genius of Water herself, sprinkling workers, children and families all around her with a cool spray to remind us of the many ways water gives us life. Not only is it one of the most well-known symbols of Cincinnati, but the square is one of the largest public common areas in the city: there’s salsa dancing in the summer, ice skating in the winter, and dozens of small tables to take a break from the office buildings and hotels all around,  grab a scoop of Graeter’s, do a little people watching, and feel the pleasant mist on hot days.

The last time I was at Fountain Square was for a Planned Parenthood rally, before  Dobbs was decided, and I stood on the ledge of the fountain so I could see out across the massive crowd of protestors and signs. As the speakers echoed out across the packed square, the 150+ year-old monument somehow felt like the protector its sculptor intended it to be: a humanist ode to harmony with nature, not a paen to ancient deities. We all know what happened after that, and what continues to happen to reproductive rights in this country, but at least on that almost-summer day the Genius gave us a place to gather, to be heard by somebody, to be acknowledged as humans and not incubators. She shielded us from the heat with her gift and her genius, misting us lightly, willing us to keep going.

National Underground Railroad Freedom Center

A physical and spiritual monument that can never be erased

A few more blocks north towards the River, at The Banks among fancy riverfront condos, sports arenas, and chain bars, is one of the more recent but most important spaces in the city, maybe the whole region: The National Underground Railroad Freedom Center, a monument to the struggle for freedom and the glimmers of hope that lit the way along the secret network of safe houses. It’s a museum as well as an experiential facility, and two of its permanent pieces will stick in your mind long after you leave.

The first is a massive wooden slave pen, recovered from a Mason County, Ky. farm and reassembled in the main atrium. Slave trader John W. Anderson warehoused enslaved people in this pen before selling them further south. At first glance, it  looks like a large log cabin, but when you approach and peer inside, the vast emptiness of it—no rooms, tiny holes for windows, no real ventilation—give a chilling reminder that human beings were packed, tortured, and treated worse than livestock in the name of economic power. Grief and pain radiate from the centuries-old wood, a tangible reminder of what some people still want to erase from our nation’s history.

The second is their eternal flame on the north-facing exterior, overlooking Covington and the Roebling Bridge. It's a reminder of lanterns placed in windows that let escapees know they would be safe, but also a symbol of the countless lives lost in the United States slave trade, a fire that can never be extinguished. The only other museum I’ve been to that felt similar is the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, which is much larger in scale and scope, but another critical reminder of the suffering woven throughout human history. The Freedom Center has a more intimate feel, which makes it that much more affecting. It is tough to experience at times, but necessary and absolutely worth every moment.

Washington Park on a Summer Evening

Specific, yes, but inexplicably indelible

This is very specific and mostly ephemeral, but so are a lot of the emotions and sensations human-made spaces can imprint upon us. For me, those include: the gravel lane towards the barn on my grandparents’ farm. Driving across the Golden Gate Bridge in thick morning fog. The torii gates at Miyajima, just outside Hiroshima. Taliesin West, Frank Lloyd Wright’s Arizona laboratory and archtitecture school.

Walking out of Cincinnati Music Hall in Over-the-Rhine after a show into Washington Park aglow with strings of lights and full of people of all kinds just enjoying themselves is somehow another one of those spaces in my mind. There might be a concert or an outdoor movie there in that square block of carefully plotted greenspace, kids playing in the water area, a couple getting engagement photos made at the bandstand in the center. It is so mundane – just a pleasant city park – but also an emphatically open and accessible public space.

However, Washington Park is also considered one of the gateways to the ongoing gentrification of the Over-the-Rhine neighborhood, previously one of the most violent places in the country and the epicenter of major civil unrest in 2001 at the police killing of unarmed Timothy Thomas. Gentrification is a problem in many historic neighborhoods on both sides of the river, but I can't help but be grateful  to stroll through the park in the evening and see all the different kinds of people  gathered to hang out, enjoy a beer, play on the playground, or socialize with their dogs. I don't know enough about the particulars of the revitalization and its controversies over the last two decades to discuss it intelligently, but it's a beautiful space with tons of history and one of my favorite spots in Cincinnati's urban core.

(Okay, Enough Waxing Poetic About a Mid-Size Midwestern City)

🏎️ Strap in, sweeties–Drive to Survive is back in all its bougie Eurotrash glory! Oh, yes, and the actual Formula 1 2023 season kicks off this Sunday in Bahrain, but let's be 100: DtS is what got me interested in the first place. I know teams and drivers loathe DtS, but I maintain it's one of the most successful and effective cases for content marketing out there. Plus, there is some news beyond the Red Bull/Ferrari/Mercedes unholy triad at the top: Valteri Bottas has a moustache! Fernando Alonzo still has not retired! Nico Hulkenberg is back, back, back again! Alex Albon is blonde! You still have time to get caught up on all drama before Bahrain–as I'm sure Netflix and F1 intended.

🚂 All aboard the Ke Huy Quan Express Train to Comeback City! I have loved seeing Everything Everywhere All At Once clean up on the awards circuit this season, and it's my top pick (along with Tàr, duh) to bring it all home at the upcoming Oscars.  Quan is especially adorable in his well-deserved re-emergence, and I can't wait to see what he does next.

🦠 If you're a fan of Weird Nature but still can't get down with fungal mycelial networks (because mushrooms are absolutely going to wipe us out, ok?), check out this gorgeous lyrical essay about slime mold.

😇 Apparently Millennials are upending the concept of midlife crises, which I'm down for, but not until I turn 50, y'all, jeez! First we killed malls, then we killed napkins, divorce(!), mayonnaise, and fabric softener (among many others), so YOU'RE WELCOME, ZOOMERS. Speaking of aging: apparently we're not the only generation living 2o+ years younger in our own perception!

💤 I recently rediscovered the magic of a purposeful power nap, but if you've tried in the past but could never get the hang of it, here's a fantastic (and thorough) guide to getting your snooze on.

I don't know about y'all, but I'm worn out and so very glad it's Friday, so thus concludes this edition of The Enthusiast! Fellow Cincinnatians/Tri-Staters, if you have favorite places in the area that you enjoy, please share in the comments! And if you're not yet a subscriber and you like what you've read, sign up to get new posts in your Inbox every week(ish):

I promise I am going to get back on track with weekly newsletters, so until next week, learn how the Daniels made one of the best movie scenes ever with two rocks and zero dialogue, unpack the unabashed Japanese-ness of the new Ghibli Park, get your Bock on if it's not too wet this weekend, and give props to Pennsylvania Senator John Fetterman (he of the hoodies and jorts) for being up front about his mental health and normalizing getting care the care he needs for it.

Ephemerally yours,
LKH