I know nothing about art
I try to keep Friday as an exploratory day. A fun day. That’s not always possible, and recently has been impossible. But today I rallied, hopped on the M, and went to Manhattan.
Just being in the city stirs ideas, and when we moved back I promised myself to make good use of it, to participate and play if only to counteract the limiting factor that living here has on my work since costs are so high and financial flexibility so limited.
So I get off at 53rd and walk, up past the stores and the newly renovated Tiffany flagship with tourists queuing behind blue ropes, into the park where all of the city was today, especially children and their caregivers but also artists loafing and others rejecting the requirement to do anything that could be mistaken for work.
I take the park up to Albertine, even if I don’t go in, because I just like that corner and those buildings, emerging from the grassy knolls into a composed view of the city, like walking onto a movie set because so very few of us live those lives.
Then a left on 5th, and immediately into the sidewalk stands, the trinkets and replicas that I never see anyone buy but someone must. Then the steps are there, and everyone is casually taking photos as if this is where they lunch every day. Except for the one bride, who really showed up for it.
Inside I get lost as I always do trying to find the contemporary galleries. They’re tucked away in the back-left, almost an embarrassment, as if the Met still isn’t quite sure that they’re art. The walls are corporate there; they make me glad I don’t have an office job.
I find the Cecily Brown exhibit, which I read a bit about in preparation today because I know nothing about art but I love to feel things. I found ’s newsletter description to mirror my experience, and was able to borrow some of his knowledge to explore the space.
I found the work grotesque. Two paintings made me physically recoil. I made amateur observations, was amused by the easter egg nature of the subjects, and wished I had the energy to go visit the Haverman in the basement afterwards which seemed to me like it belonged alongside Brown.
And then back on the subway. Back to home, work