A Whirlwind Week
September 27, 2025
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In this week’s newsletter, we speak with chef Flynn McGarry about his new restaurant, Cove; wander the newly opened Calder Gardens in Philadelphia; share a dispatch from the New York Film Festival; and more.

Also, a note of good news: Time Sensitive has been named a finalist in multiple categories of the 2025 Signal Awards, which recognizes podcasts that define culture. This means we’re now in the running for a Listener’s Choice Award, an international competition voted on by the public (and we’re in great company, with The Weekly Show with Jon Stewart, All There Is with Anderson Cooper, and IMO with Michelle Obama and Craig Robinson, to name a few). We’d be grateful if you’d consider voting for us anytime before Thursday, Oct. 9, in the following four categories: Arts & Culture, Interview or Talk Show, Best Host (Culture), and Thought Leadership.

Good morning!

Olivia here, stepping in for Spencer, who’s been in London for a whirlwind week. (Yes, sometimes, you have to speed up to slow down after all.) On Thursday night, at the historic Brown’s Hotel in Mayfair, he joined The Leading Hotels of the World team for a cocktail in celebration of the release of Culture, the second in our five-book Monacelli series with LHW, which included a talk he moderated with Antonio Sersale, the owner of the hotel Le Sirenuse in Positano, Italy, and the jewelry designer Solange Azagury-Partridge, both of whom make cameos in the book.

The festivities began the previous evening, with an intimate dinner hosted by Spencer at one of his favorite restaurants in the city (or perhaps the world), chef Margot Henderson’s Rochelle Canteen in Shoreditch, where more than 35 of our friends—writers, critics, curators, architects, designers, and others—gathered to mark 12 seasons of Time Sensitive. Our podcast returned Wednesday with Ep. 137, featuring the journalist Oliver Burkeman, whose work offers a crash course in time literature and encourages seeking more engaged day-to-day feelings of aliveness. On Friday morning, Spencer then went to the Barbican to record a future Time Sensitive conversation with a personal favorite writer of mine inside their apartment there. (Hint: They’re particularly brilliant on the pleasures, possibilities, and contradictions of gardens.) Suffice it to say we can’t wait to share the rest of Season 12 with you in the weeks ahead! To round out the week, today Spencer’s at the Landmark London hotel in Marylebone, running a couple of storytelling workshops as part of a three-day LHW hotelier event called “The Summit.”

Meanwhile, in the lead-up to the New York Film Festival (NYFF), now in its 63rd year, I spent several hours this week uptown at the movies. The event opened last night with Luca Guadagnino’s highly anticipated, provocative campus drama, After the Hunt, starring Julia Roberts, Ayo Edebiri, Andrew Garfield, Michael Stuhlbarg, and Chloë Sevigny. Along with reliably marking the city’s slow turn into fall, this festival reminds me why sitting in the dark surrounded by fellow film lovers is one of the best ways to contemplate all the slippery, strange ways time’s forward momentum shapes us and our perceptions of the past. Richard Linklater, one of the sharpest working directors exploring the contours of temporality, from The Before Trilogy to Boyhood, does precisely that with Nouvelle Vague, one of his two new offerings at NYFF. A heart-on-sleeve ode to the origins of the French New Wave movement, featuring a who’s who of that cinematic era’s most enduring figures (Jean Seberg, François Truffaut, Jacques Rivette), Nouvelle Vague lovingly chronicles the 20-day, madcap making of then 29-year-old Jean-Luc Godard’s debut feature, Breathless, in 1959—when the now influential French filmmaker first transitioned from Cahiers du Cinéma critic to a bona fide director breaking all the so-called rules. I was especially struck by the way Linklater portrays the risky tightrope walk of uncertainty built into the creative process, raising a question that threads through the entire festival itself: How do you get people to believe in and stand behind (let alone fund) a nascent vision of something they can’t yet see, whose proof of concept may only be visible and appreciated years, or even decades, after its emergence on the scene?

Over the next two weeks, I’m also excited to catch two long-overdue revivals: Satyajit Ray’s Days and Nights in the Forest (1970), a richly drawn portrayal of four bachelor friends from Calcutta who embark on a transformative holiday, and Howard Brookner’s rarely shown 1985 documentary Robert Wilson and the Civil Wars. The latter is an archival portrait of the late theater director and playwright Robert Wilson (the guest on Ep. 96 of Time Sensitive, recorded in 2023), who passed away this summer at 83. It documents Wilson as he was immersed in the process of attempting to stage a 12-hour opera with a cohort of international artists for the 1984 Summer Olympics: a marathon, massively ambitious project that was never, in the end, presented in its fullness. I was especially glad to unexpectedly stumble upon this recording of Wilson reflecting on his friend Howard’s film—which was restored with care over 12 years by the filmmaker’s nephew, Aaron Brookner, using a remaining 16mm print—at Bologna’s Cinema Modernissimo this past June. As reflected in the personal trajectories and creative paths of many Time Sensitive guests, Wilson included, good things sometimes take longer than we’d like to fully reveal themselves—but far more often than not, they’re well worth the wait.

—Olivia

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Time Sensitive
“For a finite human being, everything is time sensitive, because the vast stretches of cosmic time that I’m not alive are going to be infinitely greater than the little bit that I get.”

Listen to Ep. 137 with Oliver Burkeman at timesensitive.fm or wherever you get your podcasts

Three Things
Clockwise from top left: Interior view of Calder Gardens (Photo: Iwan Baan/Artwork: Alexander Calder/Courtesy the artist and Calder Foundation, New York / Artists Rights Society, New York); work in progress by Atelier Lognon, one of the ateliers featured at “la Galerie du 19M Tokyo” (Courtesy Mori Arts Center Gallery); “Big Phrygian” (2010–2014) by Martin Puryear, as featured in “Martin Puryear: Nexus” at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (Courtesy the artist, Matthew Marks Gallery, and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston)
Clockwise from top left: Interior view of Calder Gardens (Photo: Iwan Baan/Artwork: Alexander Calder/Courtesy the artist and Calder Foundation, New York / Artists Rights Society, New York); work in progress by Atelier Lognon, one of the ateliers featured at “la Galerie du 19M Tokyo” (Courtesy Mori Arts Center Gallery); “Big Phrygian” (2010–2014) by Martin Puryear, as featured in “Martin Puryear: Nexus” at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (Courtesy the artist, Matthew Marks Gallery, and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston)

Calder Gardens
Although it’s situated on Philadelphia’s Museum Mile, directly across from the Rodin Museum, Calder Gardens—a new space dedicated to the art and legacy of Alexander Calder—could be considered more of a sanctuary than a museum. Opened to the public earlier this week, the 1.8-acre site is replete with gardens and meadows featuring native and perennial flora, brought to life by renowned Dutch landscape designer Piet Oudolf (who was recently profiled by Spencer in Elle Decor). Rising up from this landscape is a gently curved structure, designed by the Swiss firm Herzog & de Meuron, featuring, to the north, a reflective metallic façade and, to the south, an understated wood exterior that recalls Calder’s own bohemian home in Roxbury, Connecticut. Both inside and outside the building, visitors will find a range of the sculptor’s works, some of them on public view for the very first time. Forgoing traditional labels that provide titles, dates, and didactic texts explaining how best to interpret the works, Calder Gardens allows the artist’s mobiles, stabiles, paintings, and drawings to speak for themselves and encourages visitors to pause, ponder, and react to the art in a more wholly emotional, instinctual way.

Chanel’s la Galerie du 19M Tokyo
Founded by Chanel in Paris in 2021, the le19M initiative assembles 11 Maisons d’art and nearly 700 artisans and experts in fashion and decoration. It also houses la Galerie du 19M, an open space that showcases these craftspeople’s work. Next week, la Galerie du 19M will travel east to take up residence on the 52nd floor of the Mori Tower in the heart of Tokyo. On view from Sept. 30 to Oct. 20, the space will unfold to visitors in three distinct chapters: “Le Festival,” “Beyond Our Horizons,” and “Lesage.” Designed by Atelier Tsuyoshi Tane Architects, led by architect Tsuyoshi Tane, the installation “Le Festival” will introduce the savoir-faire of le19M’s Maisons d’art, exposing visitors to raw materials, tools, and samples of nearly finished works. “Beyond Our Horizons,” meanwhile, draws together the creations of almost 30 Japanese and French artists, artisans, and ateliers, including textile artist Akiko Ishigaki and the lantern-maker family Kojima Shoten. Finally, the retrospective “Lesage: 100 Years of Fashion and Decoration” marks the centennial of the embroidery and weaving house of the same name, a close partner of Chanel. Beyond paying tribute to Japanese and French artistry, la Galerie du 19M Tokyo serves as a testament to both cultures’ shared reverence for craftsmanship and beauty.

“Martin Puryear: Nexus” at MFA Boston
Opening today at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Martin Puryear: Nexus” (on view through Feb. 8, 2026) assembles some 50 works from across the lauded sculptor’s career, offering the most comprehensive survey of his work in nearly two decades. Co-organized by the MFA and the Cleveland Museum of Art, the exhibition centers on Puryear’s use of a diverse array of materials and media—from sculptures composed of wood, leather, glass, marble, and metal to rarely displayed drawings and prints. Beginning with works on paper from the early 1960s, the exhibition follows his lifetime of exploration and innovation in form, material, and process. Rooted in new scholarship, the show illuminates the ways in which Puryear’s singular practice has been shaped by his enduring interests in global traditions of material culture, African American history, and the natural world. The wall-mounted “Hibernian Testosterone,” for example, reproduces in full scale the 12-foot antlers of the Irish elk, an extinct species of deer common during the Ice Age, while the bronze sculpture “Aso Oke” borrows its form from the fila gobi, a ceremonial cap worn by the Yoruba people of Nigeria. Traversing time, cultures, and geographies, this retrospective evokes not only the artist’s physical migrations throughout a lifetime of travel, research, and study, but also the wanderings and wonderings of his endlessly curious mind.

Interview With
Chef Flynn McGarry at his soon-to-open Manhattan restaurant, Cove. (Photo: Sean Davidson)
Chef Flynn McGarry at his soon-to-open Manhattan restaurant, Cove. (Photo: Sean Davidson)

What do Isabella Rossellini, basil, and fine dining have in common? The answer: Flynn McGarry. If you’ve heard of the chef, chances are you know that the 26-year-old prodigy started cooking when he was just 10 years old, and has since accrued a slew of projects to his name. First was Gem, the now-closed experimental tasting menu restaurant on the Lower East Side; followed by the more casual Gem Wine, a wine bar with small plates; and most recently, Gem Home, in Nolita, a casual, all-day café, bakery, grocery, and homewares store. Now he’s gearing up for his pièce de résistance: Cove, a larger-scale, 90-seat restaurant that will serve both à la carte and chef’s choice set menus, opening in Manhattan’s Hudson Square next month. Having signed a 15-year lease, McGarry envisions this as a grounding, long-term space—one he can grow into as his next decade in the fine-dining world unfolds. In preparation, he’s been hosting dinners all summer on actor and conservationist Isabella Rossellini’s Mama Farm on Long Island, where he’s been testing out menu concepts, growing his own fruits and vegetables, and getting to know the ins and outs of East Coast produce.

Here, we catch up with the chef to hear more about how ’90s California-style cuisine inspired Cove, the pleasure of drawing from Rossellini’s farm for his table, and his hope to build a restaurant that feels like home.

Can you tell us about how the idea for Cove came about?
It’s been almost three years in the works. Post-Covid, when we opened Gem Wine, it really felt like this was where we needed to focus our energy. As I found the space and then started to ideate about it, though, I felt that it needed to be something else. In a lot of ways, it’s a continuation of what we did at Gem, but it’s also the antithesis of what we did at Gem. We came from a restaurant with twenty seats on the Lower East Side, barely a kitchen, and sort of rough around the edges. Now we have a four-thousand-square-foot space.

In what other ways does Cove differ from your other restaurants?
Our references are different. I didn’t want to muddy the waters and confuse everyone with another thing called Gem. I really wanted it to exist on its own.

When you walk in, there’s a forty-seat à-la-carte room. In a way, we took Gem Wine, Gem, and the private event space of Gem Home and combined them under one roof. You can go in on a Tuesday night to have a few things to eat and go home. It can be something a little bit simpler; it doesn’t have to be a full tasting menu. Looking at New York City dining trends, what everyone wants nowadays is choice and option. We want to give people the concept of choice, and we want a place that people can come if they’re scared of a tasting menu.

Essentially, there are two ways you can eat here: In the à-la-carte room, you can order dishes to share, but you can also easily do a five-dish, family-style menu. We want to get people to understand that choice is great, but also that we know how to give you a better experience if we can be in the driving seat a little bit. Even in the à-la-carte room, we want this element that feels a little bit more like a tasting menu.

The set menu room is tucked behind the kitchen. It’s between eight and ten dishes every night, really whatever we want to cook that day. It’s a longer experience. The other thing that’s very luxurious about that room is that there’s a four-hour turn time on the tables. We’re trying to show that the concept of luxury in New York is time. If you’re thirty minutes late because you got stuck in traffic, that doesn’t really affect your experience—this is your table for the night. If you want a friend to join later and have a drink with you, or if you want to eat really quickly and leave, that’s up to you.

How did your upbringing influence your sensibility when it comes to cooking and what you want to serve at your restaurant?
I grew up in Malibu, and our neighbor would randomly catch a yellowfin tuna, then drop it off on everyone’s doorstep. This [farm-to-table experience] also exists on the East Coast. There are such amazing ingredients—they’re just a little bit harder to find.

Gem Home is what I felt was missing from New York. Cove is that same question, but on a much higher level—look at [Alice Waters’s] Chez Panisse and [Thomas Keller’s] The French Laundry. I just went out to California to all these restaurants, and it solidified my thought process that was like, they’re doing something that feels different than all of the fine dining that exists in New York, the nineties idea of fine dining.

Where did you draw inspiration from when conceptualizing Cove?
When you start looking back to nineties restaurants and dining, it was when all of these incredibly influential restaurants came about. They were all sort of facing a very similar thing: How do you recontextualize luxury and fine dining and ingredients? All these places I look at are still around and are still drivers of culture.

I’m trying to build a restaurant focused on what these places have done that have been around for thirty years. What are these elements? How do we build this as a restaurant that lasts versus a project? How do I employ people for a long time, and how do I allow us to grow steadily and pay for all of our bills and give myself a life that I want? It’s such a different thought process than I had when I was 19.

Can you talk about your friendship with Isabella Rossellini, and how you’re integrating the produce from your garden and the vegetable patch on her farm into Cove?
I met her five years ago during Covid. We wanted somewhere to do events, and we couldn’t be inside. Eventually, she was like, “Would you be interested in taking a little plot of land here and growing your own stuff?” To me, it’s such a special place, because it’s an hour and a half away from the restaurant. There are very few farms where we could, at 10 a.m., harvest our basil and bring it straight to the restaurant. The idea is we’re growing things that we want to have someone pick on Tuesday morning, and people are eating it that evening.

I think it’s so important for the restaurant to have that connection to nature in a very Japanese-inspired way. I love to surround the dish underneath with some oat leaves, give you that picture of what it looks like out of the city.

The farm is a really big element of the restaurant, even just inspiration-wise. I think we’re proving that by the amount of people who are like, “Oh, wow, I’ve never tasted an herb that tastes like that.” Now, the challenge will be: How do we bring that to the city?

What are your hopes for Cove’s future?
I really want to build a restaurant that feels like a forever home—we have a fifteen-year lease; hopefully everything works out—and it’s where I go to work every day for the next fifteen years. I finally feel comfortable enough to go, “This is actually how I can sustainably do this for a long time,” having seen, “Oh, these are the things that I actually tried and kind of burnt me out a little bit, and these are the things that were really difficult.” But then, the second that I’m actually in the restaurant, cooking, I’m like, “Oh, this is all so easy. This is what I should be doing.”

This interview was conducted by Dalya Benor. It has been condensed and edited.

Five Links

Our handpicked guide to culture across the internet.

Released earlier this week, A Different Kind of Tension by Jonathan Lethem (the guest on Ep. 121 of Time Sensitive) features seven major stories published since his last collection, alongside selections of his best work from the past three decades, spanning mortality, talking animals, and relationships and technologies on the brink of a breakdown. [Ecco]

Pretty Dirty, a documentary debuting at the Hamptons International Film Festival on Oct. 11, traces the improbable path of visual artist Marilyn Minter in a world largely resistant to her pioneering, sex-positive art, and features a brief excerpt from Ep. 90 of Time Sensitive. [Hamptons International Film Festival]

Just launched at the Jasper Morrison Shop in London’s Shoreditch neighborhood along with a corresponding exhibition, the book The Camping Tent offers a detailed design analysis usually reserved for furniture classics or architectural landmarks. [Les Presses du Réel]

In “The Gatherers,” on view through Oct. 6 at MoMA PS1, 14 international artists wrestle with the refuse of consumer society, compelling visitors to—as art critic Travis Diehl puts it in his review—“stop and smell the waste.” [The New York Times]

From now through Oct. 2, Anthology Film Archives is screening the John Wilson–championed revival of The Social Life of Small Urban Spaces, the 1980 documentary based on sociologist William H. Whyte’s namesake cult-classic book, which examines the everyday use of New York City public spaces. [Anthology Film Archives]