NYC Artscene & personalities

Met Holiday Monday

One of the many rooms you might enjoy during the holiday opening today at the Metropolitan Museum of Art is the panoramic portrait of Versailles, shown above in a photograph taken yesterday. Painted at Kingston, New York, and New York City between 1818 and 1819, this seminal work fills an impressive space found between the Temple of Dendur and American Wing. Take along your copy of Richard Brody's Everything Is Cinema, a seminal quasi-hagiography of Jean-Luc Godard, and stand out from the crowd by reading it perched on a shaded bench on the rooftop garden, where you can also enjoy Jeff Koons' whimsical sculptures. Also read our review of the Greek and Roman galleries which undoubtedly will be packed with visitors.

Tags: john vanderlyn, met museum, temple of dendur, versailles

Invader 'Attacks' in New York

In recent years, the French artist known as Invader installed a number of intriguing street-art projects he calls attacks in several cities, some of which are still visible here in the Chelsea gallery district. Above (right) the former Heavenly Body Works building on West 22nd Street between Tenth and Eleventh Avenues, home now to a Comme des Garçons boutique, you'll find a handsome green Pac-Man ghost made of Rubik's cubes. And a block away (left) at the corner of West 21st Street and Eleventh Avenue you'll find this nice tile Space Invader. Invader first installed some great tile work in 2000 in SoHo and around town. In 2006, Invader installed some massive Rubik's Cube-inspired sculptures around Paris, and you can admire some of his more recent exhibitions on his website.

Tags: comme des garcons, invader, pac man, space invaders

Forthcoming events at Dia

While the forlorn Dia flagship at 548 West 22nd Street remains for lease, the appointment of Philippe Vergne as Dia’s new director heralds a new season in hopefully a new direction—any direction would be appropriate. On September 10, both the Broken Kilometer site on West Broadway and The New York Earth Room on Wooster Street re-open. And on Monday, September 15, Robert Buck will lecture on Andy Warhol at the Dia Art Foundation, 535 West 22nd Street at 6:30 pm. Admission is $6; $3 for members, students, and seniors. Tickets are available at the lecture only. Reservations are suggested, please call 212 293 5583. On September 21, Zoe Leonard's "You see I am here after all, 2008" opens at Dia Beacon. Phone (845) 440-0100 or visit Dia's website for more information.

Tags: andy warhol, broken kilometer, dia chelsea, dia foundation, earth room

Met Holiday Monday

One of the many rooms in the Japanese galleries you might enjoy during the holiday opening today at the Metropolitan Museum of Art contains several pieces by renowned American woodworker George Nakashima. Shown above, this handsomely-appointed room additionally features videos and books on Japanese art, and offers a tranquil and meditative atmosphere away from the hurly-burly of the crowded galleries. Moreover, a beautiful square window in the north offers a fascinating glimpse down to the Temple of Dendur. Or you might just pause to study the ikebana artfully placed in the corner. Also read our review of the new Greek and Roman galleries which undoubtedly will be packed with visitors.

Tags: bloomberg, george nakashima, ikebana, japanese galleries, met

Music Review: The Police at Madison Square Garden

Resurrecting an act after more than two decades sure can be tough, as evidenced at the first New York area show by The Police. While Madison Square Garden with its retro 70's look and lousy air conditioning seemed to be the ideal stage for the reunited trio, the show sadly lacked a certain verve, perhaps underscoring why the band broke up in the mid-80's. On the other hand, with a bare-bones stage devoid of the current wizardry so in vogue at large-stadium rock shows, the audience could easily focus on Sting, Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland, who to their credit played a nearly two-hour set comprising a balanced selection from their five hit albums. First up was a mellow rendition of "Message in a Bottle," a great crowd-pleaser that got the entire audience grooving, yet there followed a rather slow and uninspired rendition of "Synchronicity II." After two months on the road, some unresolved issues clearly remain, and what strikes the long-time fan most is that their beloved ska and reggae undertones have lost any subtlety. Consequently, by performing interpretations of songs such as "Walking on the Moon" in a very reggae mood, while the crowd does sing along nevertheless the low energy feel transforms a space like the Garden into a quasi old folks' home on Monserrat. Having long since memorized all the lyrics, it would be hard for the fans not to sing along. Yet without backup singers or other distractions on the oval-shaped stage, somehow the trio seems overexposed in their stripped-down middle age. The show consistently registered as rather ossified; even the occasional struts by Sting, the leg kicks by Andy, or a jump on or off the raised stage filled with Stewart's beloved percussion instruments lacked spontaneity. Even after a month on the road, the Chicago Tribune made note of the rough transition between "Voices Inside My Head" and "When the World is Running Down," and here The Police at first appeared to take a page from Lawrence Welk, with tiny bubbles projected around the Garden. Yet the tempo finally picked up, and Sting and Andy jammed on guitar. After this first of three successive songs from the seminal album "Zenyatta Mondatta" (1980), Sting took the opportunity to remind the audience they first played New York in October 1978. Indeed the following two songs—"Don't Stand So Close to Me" and "Driven to Tears"—harkened back to the trio's roots. While the syncopation was a bit deceptive it finally became clear here how the simple staging actually works quite well; the vibe recalled the original video of "Don't Stand So Close" with the young former teacher, Sting, strutting around in his English Beat t-shirt. Nearly 30 years have elapsed since they first played "Truth Hits Everybody" here in New York, and the stripped-down sound at this juncture nicely evoked that earlier era of their careers. In contrast, the delivery of "The Bed's Too Big Without You" seemed so ska that hundreds in the audience at once seized the moment to bolt for another drink or the restrooms. After the mid-point of the show, it was clear the rotation of songs actually had some sort of logic, alternately stirring the lethargic and bringing the flagging audience back to its feet. Copeland then resuscitated the rather lifeless crowd—which very notably was comprised of middle-aged fans reliving their teenage years—with his xylophone and other percussive toys during "Wrapped Around Your Finger." The video for this hit off the "Synchronicity" album displayed much technical dexterity at the time, and even today nicely interlaces the slowed-down rhythms that made it such a hit. "De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da" was up next at a relatively fast pace, followed by a fine rendition of "Invisible Sun" from "Ghost in the Machine". Yet the paleontological interpretation of "Walking in Your Footsteps" was truly weird, with a silly video featuring dinosaur skeletons superimposed over the live band. Metaphor, perhaps? On the other hand, it was a nice throwback to those mid-1980s cheesy jumbo video displays at concerts, a trope perfected by bands ranging from Yes to Duran Duran. "I Can't Stand Losing You" underscored just how tough it can be for aging rock-n-rollers to sound inspired 30 years later, and there followed a stirring but predictable version of "Roxanne" with the ubiquitous red light flooding the Garden. The remaining highlights included a percussive "King of Pain" with strong drumming and Andy Summers' terrific guitar solo in "So Lonely." By "Every Breath You Take," however, the commuters were already bolting to Penn Station downstairs, missing that gem "Next to You" from "Outlandos d'Amour". Given that The Police went through different musical incarnations with each successive album plus endless bitter squabbles off stage, perhaps the most remarkable thing is that this show actually happened.

Tags: madison square garden, sting, the police

The New Greek and Roman Galleries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

Eager crowds took advantage of the recent Met holiday Monday opening, underscoring the popularity of the magnificent Greek and Roman galleries. It seemed fitting to observe how the visitors interact with the many works of art on display, so we repeatedly photographed the various spaces to observe how over the course of each day the temporal relationships shift. Over a period of five weeks since the galleries were unveiled, we returned six times to explore their functionality from various perspectives.
Four minutes after opening on a recent Sunday morning, this scene reflects a sort of pastoral or even reverential moment seldom experienced in today's museum, when the near-silence in the Leon Levy and Shelby White Court is punctuated only by the squeak of a nearby guard's shoes. What strikes the observer here in the initial thirty minutes after the museum's opening seems mostly how the solitary visitor can revel in relative tranquility, unencumbered by jostling or noisy patrons.
The gurgling of the fountain in this modified McKim, Mead and White atrium transports you to a more bucolic setting—whether a garden in ancient Rome or the outdoor gardens of its new-millennium cousin, the Getty Villa in Malibu. Consider the fountain and its historic uses; here construction of the fountain and its bowl was a complex process, one chronicled extensively on the Met's website, and the placement in this exact location seems especially auspicious for multiple reasons:
When espied from the mezzanine, its position in this grand public space becomes all the more apparent. From watching visitors fill the hall and meander about, it becomes readily apparent how the museum adroitly recognized how today's audiences experience the museum.
Obviously it is not just the iPod generation that uses AudioGuides or downloads the Met's podcast or enhanced audio files, nor is it the case that the younger generation demands audio stimulation while traversing the galleries. Indeed, the clever placement of sculptures facing multiple directions of the compass achieves dramatic results. Here I recall Georges Bataille's essay "Museum" from 1930, translated in the Spring 1986 issue of October: "We must realize that the halls and art objects are but the container, whose content is formed by the visitors. It is the content that distinguishes a museum from a private collection. A museum is like a lung of a great city; each Sunday the crowd flows like blood into the museum and emerges purified and fresh....It is interesting to observe the flow of visitors visibly driven by the desire to resemble the celestial visions ravishing to their eyes."
From the perspective of Bataille, these five busts, unobserved, await the visitor to discover their various states and pedestals of unequal height. Two of the five have labels indicating more can be heard on the AudioGuide. What of the splendid mosaic in front of them, when covered by visitors' feet? How to differentiate in the artisanal and artistic qualities of the five? Such pleasures await the visitor. Similarly, in the light-drenched adjacent galleries, the casual visitor and the flâneur are equally rewarded in a space where both natural and artificial light combined with modest vitrines serve not unlike Ciceronian oratory: to please, to sway, and to persuade. The visitors are captivated, absorbed it seems both in observing the various works of art as well as how their fellow patrons relate to the art. Few other spaces in the museum function quite this way. A mere 35 minutes after the 9:30 a.m. opening, the Leon Levy and Shelby White Court plays host to the full variety of visitors—solitary patrons, groups on guided tours, amateur photographers, and wide-mouthed tourists admiring the sculpture. While restraining ourselves from a full-scale review of the architecture for the present time, here the curious deployment of two orders of columns cannot go unnoticed. The visitors to the mezzanine—more on that in a moment—seem but a filling in a sandwich, while the Ionic columns of the second floor, framed by neat windows to nowhere with handsome metal grilles—formally announce the sturdy robustness, historical roots, and reclaimed intellectual legacy of this august chamber. Where but a few years ago visitors ate lunch or drank espresso at a tiny bar, the museum now announces smartly announces its dramatic evolution in this reclaimed space. The mezzanine—this quaint concept found in our hallowed museums—stuns the visitor in harmonious ways, inducing an additive effect after gorging on the sculptures of the atrium. Reached either by the narrowest staircase in the entire museum or by one of the handsomely-appointed new elevators, the first object of veneration generally seems to be the chariot depicting scenes from the Achilles' life. Here and throughout the mezzanine, the strategic deployment of multiple vitrines communicates both subtle and overt messages in this lush space with low ceilings. Since the views of Fifth Avenue and Central Park—as in other areas of the museum—compete for the visitor's attention, the glass vitrines secure appreciation for the various objects and demand reverence. First seen in the Luce Center for American Art, visual storage can have extraordinary appeal when harnessed to tools of information technology as well as laid out according to rigorous geometric principles. In contrast to vitrines chockablock with Americana, here careful and measured spacing in addition to luxurious construction materials lessens the concept of storage. Indeed, the effect here seems purely an encyclopedic and methodical cataloging of invaluable antiquities, and the streaming light from the lavish Fifth Avenue windows creates for a spellbinding room full of treasures. No matter how much one experiences this room, one wants to experience more, though generally exhaustion sets in after contemplating a few hundred or so objects. As featured in other newer galleries such as at the Rubin Museum, touch-screen displays offer additional information about the pieces on display, as well as connections to the other works of art and larger contexts of the artwork. Moreover, in our technology-driven era where various types of equipment (PDA, cellphone, Audio Guide, iPod, camera) distract the visitor's attention in the museum, these touch-screen displays help refocus attention on the objects of veneration. Some might argue their inclusion is critically important for the museum's mission in the 21st century, while others might merely see them as barely tolerable appendanges with an albeit useful function. Does harnessing technology to antiquity have sacrilegious aspects? Hardly. For with the ability to zoom through the many objects in this gallery, additional information on provenance and donations can be gleaned. How fascinating that this particular terracotta bell-krater was donated exactly 100 years ago; Miss Matilda W. Bruce could scarcely have imagined how her bowl would be displayed today, or how accessible it would be to visitors—both real and virtual. A final glimpse down through the columns to the Leon Levy and Shelby White Court gives a interesting perspective, one where the visitor can casually observe other visitors observing sculpture. This dramatic effect is even more stunning in the Japanese galleries, where in a sedate wood-panelled room containing a gorgeous Nakashimaya table and ikebana flower arrangement you can spy through a large square plate-glass window down to the Temple of Dendur. to be continued

All photographs copyright © 2007 NewYorkCity.com Inc. All rights reserved.

Tags: greek and roman galleries, leon levy, luce center, mckim mead and white, met, Nakashimaya, shelby white, temple of dendur

Art Review: Walter DeMaria at Gagosian Chelsea

Two superb installations of Walter DeMaria's stainless-steel rods at the Gagosian Chelsea locations remain on display for ten more days. On loan from the Boijmans van Beunigen Museum in Rotterdam and here for first time, A Computer Which Will Solve Every Problem in the World/3-12 Polygon (1984) at the 21st Street gallery features 75 rods placed with the grace and precision that evokes the permanent installation of DeMaria's Broken Kilometer on West Broadway. Yet the two installations could not be more different; the halide lighting and increasing space observed between successive rows of three rods in A Computer... have a profound look and feel that exude a more kinetic energy than the cool exactitude of the five rows of 100 rods of Broken Kilometer. At the 24th Street gallery, 13, 14, 15 Meter Rows (1985) compounds the fascinating effects of A Computer... in that the shapes of the rods and alignment are dramatically different. Moreover, the natural lighting in the 24th Street location allows for a markedly dramatic experience depending on the time of day. DeMaria spent over a dozen years making enormous sculptures in horizontal format. But the joy of seeing DiMaria's rods outdoors inserted vertically into the earth is rather akin to the joy of seeing Serra sculpture outdoors, rather than in the cold confines of the museum. I've previously written about the excitement of visiting DeMaria's site-specific installation The Lightning Field near Quemado, New Mexico, something everyone with the means to see should do. The season opens again on May 1st, and reservations can be made through Dia's office in Corrales. Fans of DeMaria's work with steel rods will undoubtedly also be fascinated by his Earth Room on Wooster Street. photo: Visitor at The Lightning Field

Tags: broken kilometer, dia foundation, earth room, gagosian, lightning field, richard serra, the lightning field, walter demaria

Music Review: Kronos Quartet - New York premiere of Julia Wolfe's "My Beautiful Scream" at BAM

Although last night's performance by the Brooklyn Philharmonic at BAM contained several interesting variations of works by Thomas Tallis, Ralph Vaughan Williams and Gustav Holst, the highlight of the "Kronos Cosmos" program was the New York premiere of Julia Wolfe's haunting and fascinating "My Beautiful Scream" written for the Kronos Quartet. Co-commissioned by the Brooklyn Philharmonic, Orchestre Philharmonie de Radio France and the Basel Sinfonietta, this 25-minute work premiered in February 2004 at the Festival Presence in Paris. The work begins with rather tranquil strings and quickly builds to a nearly violent crescendo. As the haunting cadences of the scream evolve musically in various directions, the timpani and amplified bass guitar add astounding and vibrant notes. Watching the orchestra closely was mesmerizing, for sudden and feverish—indeed tumultuous—phrases appeared as from nowhere. In a fascinating interview before the orchestra set forth, Wolfe described how she commenced work on "My Beautiful Scream" shortly after 9/11. As a resident of lower Manhattan close to Ground Zero, she mentioned how her otherwise "very beautiful" life took a turn, wherein she felt "this strange existence of living in beauty and having the sensation of a long drawn out internal scream." And yet her work could not be more different than other meditations on 9/11 such as John Adams' seminal On the Transmigration of Souls. Whereas Adams' piece musically evokes the thousands of lost souls ferried across the ocean of samsara—not least due to the human voices interspersed throughout—Wolfe's screams are entirely musical. While a post-concert discussion with Kronos and Wolfe further explicated some of the complicated technical aspects of composition and performance, it seems both performers and audience found the piece a tad overwhelming. Given that Holst's premiere was followed by Gustav Holst's all-too-familiar and overplayed "The Planets" with a new video projection by Hatch Productions, the questions focused more on the Holst piece. Having seen the first video projection of Eisenstein's Alexander Nevsky with Prokofiev's riveting music quite a number of years ago, it was rather fascinating to learn that technology has upgraded the conductor-film relationship; maestro Stefan Asbury had no need to even observe the video while conducting as the Hatch production was computer-controlled to follow the orchestra. Rather fascinating, perhaps, but it seems even multimedia bores jaded Brooklynites: This was the first classical music performance I have ever attended where I saw not one but four audience members sending text messages throughout the performance. Perhaps they were so inspired by that portion of Holst focusing on Mercury, the winged messenger? En route back to Manhattan, I asked a member of the orchestra how he had enjoyed performing the Wolfe piece, and was rather disappointed with his answer that he preferred the Williams and Holst works. Given the three decades of virtuoso and exceedingly dynamic performances for which Kronos has become known—ranging from Caravan to the string quartets of Alfred Schnittke—Kronos' well-deserved place in the cosmos again became clear with Julia Wolfe's visionary and enthralling premiere of "My Beautiful Scream".

Tags: bam, brooklyn philharmonic, gustav holst, julia wolfe, kronos quartet, ralph vaughan williams, Stefan Asbury

Art Review: Richard Serra Retrospective at Museum of Modern Art

~~Although nearly six weeks remain until theRichard Serra Sculpture: Forty Yearsexhibit opens~~ At the Museum of Modern Art, now on view are two massive sculptures installed ~~last week~~ several weeks ago in the Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Sculpture Garden as well as monumental works on the second and sixth floors. Serra fans remember the fascinating exhibit Rolled and Forged at the Gagosian Chelsea last year, as well as the monumental torqued ellipses in the permanent collection of Dia: Beacon. Yet by placing two massive outdoor sculptures at the Museum, MoMA has achieved two very intriguing results: First off, early arrivals at the museum can see how the steel takes on different aspects as the sun over Midtown peeks over a nearby highrise to the east. From 10:30 am to noon, the intensity of the light shifts dramatically, highlighting particularly the "Torqued Ellipse IV" (1999). Secondly, these two sculptures smartly divide the garden—in particular, Intersection II (1992-3)—forcing visitors to contemplate the sculptures by walking around and through them. The spatial orientation and placement toy with the basic precepts of the western sculpture garden, and the elegant curves provide many possibilities for contemplative speculation. Thus it seems in this otherwise ossified space that intrigue and innovation have finally taken hold; this garden now indeed appears (post-)(post-)modern. On this spectacular weekend when Manhattan's magnolia trees were in full bloom, while flâneurs were out in full force and while French voters stood in line outside their Consulate on Fifth Avenue, this oasis of tranquility in Midtown was greatly enhanced by the addition of these two Serra sculptures. Perhaps they will become as beloved as some of Serra's most famous installations—or despised as "Tilted Arc" (1981) was on Federal Plaza years ago. How New Yorkers relate spatially to sculpture in public places remains an open question~~, and most certainly for the next six weeks until this full 40-year retrospective of Serra's dazzling work officially opens~~.

Update: On Sunday, June 3rd—the opening day of the exhibit—an early-morning leak at the museum initially prevented public access to the massive sculptures on the second floor. Although it was wryly noted that little damage to these sculptures could be caused by water, it was nevertheless an unusual event with most unfortunate timing. Though several days of closed previews preceded the public opening, how the crowds interact with the Serra sculpture at MoMA is of key importance. Thus, our full review of Serra's work on the second and sixth floors of the Museum will follow at a later date, including an extensive discussion of Band (2006) and Sequence (2006) and the spatial relationships between the public and the sculpture.

Tags: moma, museum of modern art, richard serra, tilted arc, torqued ellipse

Theater Review: Frost/Nixon on Broadway

This curious Peter Morgan play directed by Michael Grandage and adapted for an American audience after a successful run in London has a limited engagement at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre on West 45th Street. Frost/Nixon originally premiered at the Donmar Warehouse in mid-August 2006, then moved to London's Gielgud Theatre three months later. Certainly the British audiences were keen to see how David Frost—who was already becoming a larger-than-life entertainment figure in the mid-1970s—managed to cleverly coax the most deceptive of 20th-century American presidents into revealing his innermost thoughts about Watergate. In 28 hours of interviews over a twelve-day period, Frost had tremendous difficulty in getting Nixon to speak in a straightforward and candid manner about the failures of his presidency until the final interview, and this play explores the tension and dynamics of those interviews. Yet on the New York stage, the parameters are rather different, and even augmented by an enormous backdrop of 36 vintage televisions that nicely frame the action on stage, somehow it's not entirely clear who the intended audience might be here. One assumes the Broadway audience will be captivated by Nixon's haunted mien, through exploring the agenbite of inwit plaguing Nixon in his post-White House years. While one must resist easy attempts to compare the disarray of the late Nixon White House with the presidency's present incumbent, it's clear that Frost's failure in the bulk of the Nixon interviews to get the president to openly admit his errors has numerous parallels with the current soul-searching over manipulations of the press. In fact, there are so many parallels with the political state of the nation thirty years ago that it would seem Ron Howard's fervent desire to film Frost/Nixon makes good cinematic sense in the run-up to next year's election, despite the Weinstein company's current string of bad press as well as rumors that Warren Beatty turned down Howard for the role of Nixon. Frank Langella brilliantly captures the mood of a broken and lonely Nixon, eager to explicate his carefully-scripted and -edited story of the great successes of his presidency. Langella's gesticulations, verbal circumlocutions and rhetorical excesses indeed underscore how Nixon, in exile in San Clemente with Pat and with the bottle, keenly missed the spotlight to which he had grown so accustomed in his political life. Michael Sheen in the role of David Frost smartly evokes Frost's own successful transformation in shifting from entertainment figure (notably on Australian television) to political commentator with this expensive gamble in getting Nixon to speak in exchange for a hefty and (in this country) hitherto unheard of fee. Stephen Kunken puts in an admirable performance as Jim Reston, a bit of dynamic glue pushing the glib Frost politically left of center, while a few other figures—notably Stephen Rowe as Swifty Lazar and Mike Wallace—have cameos.

Tags: bernard jacobs theatre, david frost, gielgud theatre, michael grandage, peter morgan, richard nixon, watergate