Public art that mocks my plight

Posted on October 30, 2009 by Exile on Pain Street

All art isn’t housed in stuffy old museums. New York is littered with public art installations.

There are two ways to get from the vile Port Authority to the Times Square subway station; you can either walk above ground down 42nd Street or you can take the underground walkway that connects the two. The tunnel is a dreary, Soviet-style passageway that’s all function and no form. It’s an avenue-long tunnel of concrete, white tile, steel I-beams and exposed florescent bulbs.

In an effort to cheer up the walk a bit, the Metropolitan Transit Authority has commissioned a series art installations (as they have in MANY subway stations throughout the city). When you walk eastward towards Seventh Avenue, as a multitude of commuters do every morning, this is the installation that greets you. It’s inspired by the classic Burma-Shave ads of the 40s where a series of sequential signs containing a word or two reveal a poem.

Remember: This is the first thing that harried commuters coming from the dark New Jersey suburbs see at 6:30 in the morning on our way to the salt mines.

I don’t know who to attribute this work to. There’s an accrediting placard on every piece of public art but I can’t find this one. On a good morning, this makes me laugh. Some mornings? Not so much.

Look! Up in the sky!

Posted on October 27, 2009 by Exile on Pain Street

New Yorkers always have a bit of a chuckle at the tourists who walk about the city with their heads craned up. They fall off curbs and crash into lampposts and each other. But savvy New Yorkers know that the tourists are RIGHT! There’s a spectacular show going on up there. Some of the finest architectural flourishes in the city can be found above the 40th floor.

Case in point: Take a look at the crown of this art deco masterpiece. This building is elegantly described by my good friend Artisté Florenza on her blog and is the subject of one of her beautiful paintings.

This grandly embellished piece of architecture on the corner of 51st Street and Lexington Avenue in midtown was originally called the RCA Victor building when it went up in the ’30’s. The symbols and details on the crown of the building were inspired by radio waves and it is quite a site to see.

Is it a symptom of my advancing age to say they don’t design them with this depth of detail anymore? Click on this pic and take a good look at it. Can the polished surfaces of Frank Gehry compare to this? Nay, I say.

The Empire State Building, that Grand Old Dame of the city, has ornamental lighting that changes almost every night. Each color scheme is a commemoration or celebration. On October 19th, I was walking by after a meditation class and saw this mess!

I looked it up when I got home and apparently, these “Psychedelic Tie-Dye Colors” were in honor of the New York Historical Society’s Benefit for the Grateful Dead Exhibition and Archive. Are they running out of themes?

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All the street corner fruit vendors in Manhattan call you either “boss” or “my friend.” I like it.

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Cost to park in a garage on 89th Street off of Park Avenue for a bit over three hours to take The Daughter to The Metropolitan Museum of Art: $45.

Ouch. Just so you know. When you lay in a bed of roses, you’re going to get stuck with a few thorns.

NYC wildlife

Posted on October 21, 2009 by Exile on Pain Street

Early one morning, I was walking past the Verizon store on 6th Avenue and 41st Street when a small brown dot in the bottom left corner of the window moved and caught my eye.

Upon closer examination, I could see that the tiny brown dot had fur and a tail.

It was a trapped little mouse! He somehow fell into a space whose walls were so high that he couldn’t extract himself. There was a Verizon service truck parked at the corner and the driver said he was going to free him as soon as the store opened. We can be benevolent towards mice but if it had been a trapped rat, the driver would have been waiting for the store to open so he could mash its head in with a tire iron.

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Did you know that the sparrows in New York City are so tame that they’ll take food right out of your hand? Try doing this with a sparrow in your backyard and see how close you get.

Is the Kandinsky retrospective any good?

Posted on October 12, 2009 by Exile on Pain Street

How am I going to explain how great this exhibit is without sounding like a pretentious jerk? Art exhibit reviews almost always leave me cold. They’re awful things to read. Art is subjective and open to personal interpretation. Reading some “expert” from the Times spew his opinion strikes me as a waste of time.

Having said that, I have to be honest and report that the media is right about the Kandinsky show at the Guggenheim. It’s a blockbuster and it knocked me flat on my ass. Way better than the lame-ass Monet water lilies exhibit currently at MoMA. I walked in knowing just a little bit about Kandinsky and walked out a big fan. His work is far more eclectic than I thought it was.

I took two artists with me; Artiste Florenza and Sister #2. Both attended prestigious art institutions. Do you know what I did? I laid back a few steps and listened to the two of them discuss the work. It was an education. I came across this beauty and thought it was an interesting composition.

Then I heard Sister #2 remark, “That’s a nice profile.” I was standing right in front of the damn thing and never saw it! Always bring someone smarter than you.

Part of the exhibit is a healthy selection of works on paper that are just as strong as the works on canvas. It’s like two exhibits in one. I had no idea just how great this guy was.

It’s not a question of if I’ll return for another visit but, rather, how many times I can get there before it closes. If you’re in town between now and January 10th, you should make a point to go. It’s fantastic.

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Take a look at these two Eurotrash visitors I found outside the museum. He’s wearing one of those expensive European pinstripe business suits (click to view). A few moments prior to this shot they were sucking face and slobbering over each other. Then, Pink Tie’s phone rang and he stopped to take a call. I’m no expert at reading body language, but I’d say she feels a bit put out by the coitus interruptus.

Here’s a link to view over two dozen works on exhibit.

I vish to be alone

Posted on October 9, 2009 by Exile on Pain Street

New York is a fine place in which to be alone. To walk into a little café with an armload of newspapers and sit at the counter and read them over a bowl of chili and grilled cheese and a white mug of coffee and a waitress who says, “What else would you like, love?”—this is heaven.

Garrison Keillor

As previously stated, I didn’t marry until much later in life than most. People began to wonder why I seemed to be, by all external appearances, normal, but still unmarried. As though that were a societal barometer for normalcy! Rumors were rampant. People wondered if I was gay, (Nope. Would say so if I was. In my world, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.) or hated women (Hardly! I love women! Having daughters was my secret preference.) or afraid to commit (Hummm. Maybe a bit of that.).

When I first arrived in New York all those years ago, I was inflicted with a crippling loneliness that lasted for several months. I, quite literally, didn’t know a single person here and going from the suburbs of Cleveland to Manhattan was a rough transition. At that time, New York City was a broken, dark, scary place. It wasn’t the buffed city on the hill it is today.

But then, quite suddenly, I snapped out of it. I embraced the city and its (apologies to Warren Zevon) splendid isolation. From that day forward, I was never lonely again, even during those long stretches when I wasn’t seeing someone or had few friends to call. Like Mr. Keillor, I could always belly-up to a café and eavesdrop on conversations or walk my city streets until I felt better. I found that to be a tremendous solace during my dark hours.

I believe there are people who get married as a cure for their loneliness. I’ve hung on my cross for lots of things, but loneliness was never one of them. I’ve been lucky that way. How can you be lonely or homesick when you’re heart is in the right place and you’re surrounded by 8.3 million people?