The Talented Mr. Kravitz

As he prepares to drop his first album in more than five years, with a massive tour to follow, the rock and style icon talks candidly about family, faith, sex, love, and legacy

- By Madison Vain. Photogrpahs by Norman Jean Roy

LENNY KRAVITZ DOES NOT BLEND IN. WE'RE SITTING IN Bemelmans, the iconic piano bar at the Upper East Side's historic Carlyle Hotel. Here, things are done properly. Have been since 1947. Waiters wear white coats. Cocktails, served exclusively in etched crystal glasses, arrive on silver trays. Fancy little bowls full of fancy little bar snacks adorn the tables. Murals by Ludwig Bemelmans-of the Madeline children's book fame-decorate the walls. And some of the country's most celebrated jazz pianists still play the black and whites nightly. It is a place completely synonymous with old-school New York City glamour. It's also maybe the last place you'd expect to spot a certified rock god during daylight hours.

But this is where Kravitz wanted to meet, so here we are. It's 3:00 P.M. on a very rainy Yom Kippur; the remnants of Tropical Storm Ophelia are battering Manhattan outside, and the sparser-than-usual crowd is almost entirely drinking martinis. Kravitz, who is staying at his daughter's Brooklyn apartment while she's holed up in his Paris home, looks like he beamed in straight from 1975. Tailored brown-leather jacket, turtleneck, flared trousers. His signature locks are pulled half back, and gold rings wrap around a few of his fingers. He orders a hot green tea.