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Anne Adelman's New York City:
Growing up in New York City, I often caught glimpses of other people's lives through the rows of windows that faced the windows of my family's apartment. From our kitchen window I could look down a broad air shaft, to the rear courtyard of my building. Across the way and to the left, dainty curtains hung above the small table where an old lady sometimes sat, alone, sipping tea. Above her and to the right, a child peered through safety bars, clutching the ears of a stuffed bunny. The large living room window [...] looked out over the New York cityscape, my elementary school [...] out past the Empire State building and, beyond, to the former World Trade Towers. On sick days, I would look down wistfully through my bedroom window into the windows of my school and watch insect-sized children... (Adelman, 2021, p. 491)
A whole city is remembered, Anne Adelman's NYC, the panorama of life through a child's eyes, filled with fantasy and curiosity, a detective, waiting for the promise of her life to unfold. And this vivid memory, après coup, now opens a window for us to enter the stories of that grown up detective observing the panorama of the Zoom windows of her practice, framing these stories during a time of love and loss, of pandemic and civil chaos, and the uncertainty hanging over it all.
By setting her talk within bright childhood wonder, Anne Adelman invites us to explore the unexpected images now vying for our curiosity and attention as our analytic spaces open onto a strange new world. In a few short months, we have zoomed into a future we did not anticipate, with new technologies of