I've been seeing an abundance of art recently in this city, filled with creatives extraordinaire as it is. New York has always been the mecca for artists of all types, the list is long of those that have lived, thrived and died here. The tradition continues.
I recently took in the ethereal, otherworldly installation anthropodino by Ernesto Neto at the Park Avenue Armory. Talk about a head trip. The Armory is enormous and about the only place that can tackle Neto's one square city block, 80 feet high visual missive. Glorious to behold, one section of the piece drips with spice-filled gauze, like the stockings of giants. Walking through its ghostly constructed corridors, you at once feel peaceful and then can't catch your breath. See it before it is gone gone gone on June 14.
You can also catch great art evenings in Chelsea. The galleries there have receptions most nights, but Thursdays and Fridays seem most popular. I recently took in Liz Markus' paintings at Zieher Smith Gallery. Later at the Robert Miller Gallery, Patti Smith's photography and Jem Cohen's show were illuminating. The crowd is filled with the ultra-hip, and it is a quintessential New York City experience to walk among them.
Finally, the public art in NYC is beyond compare. There is not enough room here to list them all, but any block is bound to offer sculpture of the highest order. Perhaps the greatest art masterpiece of them all is Central Park, which grounds all of us - creative wannabe's and artists alike - in nature's wholesome breath.
1 comment:
Mary, with this post you capture the single biggest reason I'd love to live in New York. The level of art to be seen there is unmatched anywhere in the world. Here in Chicago, we have plenty of galleries, but mostly they show emerging artists. An artist acquaintance of mine commented on this as she prepared to move to New York--she said that pretty much all serious artists here feel compelled to leave town when they reach a certain level. The mid-career artists who do show here tend to be less well known. To see the big names, you have to go to the museums here. I remember wandering into a little gallery in Chelsea and seeing some twentysomething gallery assistants hanging a show of Jean-Michel Basquiat. Another gallery show had only four pieces, but they were a Warhol, a Tom Wesselman, a Frank Stella and another heavyhitter whose name escapes me at the moment. Amazing.
And no, art isn't just about the established names, but I think even the new artists showing in New York tend to be a bigger deal.
Thanks for another great post--and the attendant pangs of longing it provoked.
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