In the meantime, I’ll be periodically posting mp3 mix tapes.  This one is basically for stoners, and it’s best enjoyed outside on randomized order.  A soul one is coming soon and you can probably expect more after that (depending on how long the redesign takes).

Tracklist and a mediafire link are after the jump.

DOWNLOAD ZIP FILE HERE (7zip is a free and user-friendly unzipping software, if you don’t already have something)

Song......................Artist..........................Album
You and I.................Washed Out......................Adult Swim Singles
Take Shelter..............Active Child....................Curtis Lane 
Strangers In The Wind.....Cut Copy........................In Ghost Colours
Sometimes.................Beach Fossils...................S/T LP  
Round And Round...........Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti...Before Today 
Just Wait Til Next Year...John Maus.......................Songs  
Friend of the Night.......Teen Inc........................Fountains 7"
Fly Like an Eagle.........Steve Miller Band...............Fly Like an Eagle
Feel It All Around........Washed Out......................Life of Leisure 
Do Your Best..............John Maus.......................Love Is Real 
Darlin'...................Dead Meadow.....................Three Kings  
Cortez the Killer.........Neil Young......................Zuma 
Chinatown.................Wild Nothing....................Gemini  
Can't Hear My Eyes........Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti...Before Today
Air Supply................Sweet Trip......................You Will Never Know Why

If you like this, allow me to also plug Rachel and my DJ night (every 2nd Thursday of the month at Enid’s) as well as DJ Overgold’s (wayyyyy to many to mention, but he’s highly google-able).  See you all again when we land,

Guten Morgan

A cup of coffee and a trenchcoat later, off I went into the circus that is weekend public transportation, and finally made it up to the Museum of Arts and Design. My fellow traveler C and I made our way up to start our viewing of Slash: Paper Under the Knife. Billing itself as a display of “cut, torn, shredded and burned paper,” this large and varied exhibit turned out to be just the inspiration I needed.

It is not that uncommon to see incredible things made out of inexpensive materials, but the pieces that impressed me the most were those where the method and process moved me as much as the end result. For example, these incredible vases made from sheets of paper laminated together and then turned on a lathe. Made by Tomas Gabzdil Libertiny, of Studio Libertiny, they appear deceivingly (with their smooth surface and off-white color) to be ceramic vases perhaps even made on a wheel, until upon further inspection you can see the minute lines showing paper thickness.

Other favorites for C and I included Doug Belbe’s “Crater,” which used a belt sander to create organic grooves on sheets of paper, described as giving the impression of larvae eating it. Stacked together, the sheets then give this impression of looking downwards into, as the title suggests, a paper-made crater. I also loved the interpretation of a Morris print on Tom Gallant’s “Rose Window V,” that looked to me almost like embossed leather, and Olafur Eliasson’s “Your House,” a negative version of an architectural model that is simply amazing.

At first subconsciously and then purposefully, I chose to focus on works with amazing levels of precision and detail, because I was just so in awe of the workmanship. Many of the artists described their process as a sort of meditation, such as Adam Fowler and his work of 74 layers of hand-cut paper, incredibly thin and in delicate designs, then stacked up together. Fowler also pointed out the contradiction between drawing fast versus cutting slow, and this made me think about the way in which these works are an incredible testament to patience – something which is not required in many situations anymore it seems. At times the level of detail achieved on such a small scale reminded me of the incredible Medieval ivory sculpture, the kind that require a magnifying glass to really see all the detail.

Unfortunately photography is not allowed (anywhere!) inside the museum, so I only have rainy photos of the exterior to share. While my visit focused in the end on the architectural pieces, there are also many site-specific installations, beautiful patterns of paper climbing up walls and windows, and several videos as well.

“Slash” is only on display until April 14th! More info on MAD and its other current exhibits (Viola Frey! Contemporary baskets!) here.

Happy travels!

Generally, I try to avoid reading too much about a show before going, but with the Biennial I feel I need to do some research. Partly because I worry about not being able to process the volume of information without adequate background information, and partly because it seems to be such a momentous occasion that reading other experiences would be fulfilling.  And I just have not had enough time as of late to devote myself to proper preparation, so I will not be going to the Biennial yet.

Instead, while everyone makes their way up to the Whitney last week, I went over to the International Center of Photography, a favorite of mine.  Along with my fellow Grand Tour-er A, we started on the lower level, to see Twilight Visions: Surrealism Photography and Paris, a collection of 1930s and 1940s photographs, video and memorabilia from Paris.  Displaying images with varying levels of abstraction, the show is a great opportunity to see classic works by Brassai, Ilse Bing, and Man Ray alongside others showing the Paris café and cabaret culture of the time.  Like many, I am a sucker for Parisian photographs from this era.  Call me a teenager staring at a heartthrob, but I will never tire of seeing images of Paris.  I know, how cliché.

Upstairs, the main exhibit area is devoted to works by Miroslav Tichy, a Czech artist who, in the 1960s and 70s, made his own cameras out of cardboard and other scraps.  I did read the short New York magazine blurb before going, and the photographs turned out to be not quite what I expected when they described images of women.  Curators describe the artist as spending his days in his small Czech hometown photographing street life, on a regular basis, and that the locals considered him “harmless” although a bit of an eccentric (though he was wielding cardboard cameras, some of which are on display).  They also mention his work only began to get awareness after an exhibit in the last decade.

We could not help but feel that the images of women, often blurry and many times seemingly taken without the subject’s awareness, were slightly creepy – although voyeurism may have been part of the point.  Perhaps this was also our reaction as women living in 21st century New York, immediately skeptical of strangers, especially men, in public places.  Some of the images were charmingingly sweet though, capturing a woman fixing her shoe strap in the street or other glimpses of daily street life.

But overall the show’s curators did bring up an interesting point by explaining Tichy’s work in the context of the continual progression and evolution of photography.  By the 1960s, photography was already quite developed yet Tichy chose to use the medium in his own way to record his impressions, or rather what the curators refer to as the recording of “nothingness.”  Which makes me wonder how now, in an age when everyone has a camera, can one make his or herself remembered as a photographer?  Thoughts welcome, of course.

More information on the ICP (which also has a fantastic bookstore and a school) here.

Happy travels!

At this point we really should have known better then to try to go to see the Silk Road exhibit over a weekend, also a long weekend, at a kid-friendly museum (I secretly wanted to see the whale again too.)  But we tried, and it still came as a little bit of a disappointing shock when we learned the exhibit was sold out.  So, as true New Yorkers, in kicked our survival instincts and the new game plan became: find an alternate museum.

Luckily enough – it was incomparably easy: it turns out the New York Historical Society is on the corner right below the museum.  So off we went, quickly swapping silk and trading history for a seemingly encyclopedic collection of artifacts relating (somehow or another) to New York history.

The fourth floor Luce Center consists entirely of display cases filled with more tureens, sauceboats and silver sugar tongs than I have seen in recent memory.  Unfortunately – and we may just have missed it entirely – the signage and captions were at times nonexistent.  It seemed to be rather made for researchers than frequent tourist visits.  We were disappointed to not have further information but agreed in the end (as is often the case with museums) – it’s better that these objects are being taken care of here than perhaps getting damaged elsewhere.

spectaclesspectacles

Of particular interest was the amazing collection of Tiffany lamps in all colors, sizes and patterns. And often the best part about going to this kind of historical institution is seeing all the names which are now so commonplace in New York – for example, a whole series of paintings of the Beekman family, now known for Beekman Place.

There are several exhibits up currently, including one on the painters of the Hudson River School, of which the paintings always serve as a eerie reminder of what New York used to look like.  But the largest exhibit up currently – full of interactive displays, music and video – is the Abraham Lincoln retrospective, if you will.  A super thorough and engaging display, it made me feel the need to (embarrassingly enough) brush up on my (apparently very rusty) American History.  The real Lincoln history buffs probably do not even need me telling them to go. For anyone else feeling out of touch with their country’s history, now there’s no excuse not to take a little refresher course, since the museum is offering free entry until February 21st.

More info on the New York Historical Society here.

Happy travels!

The listings at the back of New York magazine are usually a good place to get your bearings on what is going on in the city’s gallery world, though the online listings can be more thorough. Another great place to get some ideas, or at least to pick a place to start your tour, is Artlog. It has the most thorough listings I have seen around recently, and you can even search exhibits and events by zip code – which can be quite helpful when you have a general location in mind, be it Chelsea or other.

Chelsea was my destination last week, and having noted several shows I wanted to stop into, I set off to 25th Street and Ninth Avenue to start my walk, and my fight with the intense wind. My first stop was Pace Wildenstein, which currently has on display a dozen or so large-scale photographs by Richard Misrach. The introduction explains these photos are technically “negatives,” but actually positives of digital photos (not sure if I got that right?) – needless to say it is a process I wish to learn more about. Images with figures or patterns of sand were the most appealing to me, as were those that made me curious about what the “original” image was.

After a quick stop over at Yossi Milo, where there is currently a show by Jacob Aue Sobol, I went into Axelle Fine Arts. This was not on my agenda, but the door was open so I took it as a sign to go in. It’s a rather large space, with an exhibition (that has since closed) by Jean-Daniel Bouvard, featuring sun-filled paintings that made me dream of a warmer season.

Stopping at Cheim & Read was part of my original plan and reason to go to Chelsea. I remember reading and hearing about the Diane Arbus and William Eggleston shows when they first opened, and had been wanting to go see them for myself ever since. I enjoyed more the small room of photographs by Diane Arbus, which are mainly from the 1960s. Something about the photos of hotel lobbies, showing New York or other city scenes used as wallpaper attracted me that afternoon. There are about a dozen photos by Arbus but more space devoted to Eggleston.

hello, chelsea

Out of all the stops, the show I enjoyed the most on this trip was one I had not planned on seeing, Jack Tworkov at Mitchell-Innes & Nash. Untitled (P73 #4) from 1973 reminded me at times of a textile pattern, and drew me in with its repetition. I was thrilled to see this work, perhaps having seen it before but not remembering. I also enjoyed Iding II, with its subtle geometric element.

Other stops – planned or spontaneous – included Robert Miller Gallery, Stephen Haller Gallery, and 192 books – ok, not technically within the 2 block radius – but a favorite stop for book-browsing.

This is really just a small smattering of information and an account of a one time experience – as you probably know the options in Chelsea and in New York are endless. Pick a destination and make an outing of it.

Happy travels!

Does that mean you should not be going to a museum, if you do not have your thinking cap on? Not always, since in the ideal case you could go into a museum feeling sleepy and braindead, yet leave completely inspired by what you have seen. Similarly, you can have completely inaccurate presumptions of how an exhibit is going to affect you, either by under- or overestimating its quality and value.

The point of my rant really, is that (as with most things in life) you just can never tell. You might walk into an exhibit and realize you have no desire to be there. Or – perhaps this is the worst – an exhibit could completely bore you. But maybe you did not have any particular expectations, and an exhibit expanded your view by emphasizing themes you had never thought about, or by displaying overlooked or little known works. That last one is probably the one most curators aim for.

Such was the case with the Man Ray retrospective on view currently at the Jewish Museum. It may be the case that you only know of Man Ray’s black and white photographs, mostly taken in the 1920s in Paris. You will get to see all of the famous ones, and many others too, but for me the show was most successful in that I learned a great deal about Man Ray’s other works – the early and the late ones, which are less well known. Yet the show never felt drudgy or overly educational. My personal favorites of his remain the photographs, but they are all the more interesting seen in context of his entire body of work. That may seem like a simple conclusion, but at least the show has succeeded in that respect. To make things better – outside elements were working in my favor: it was a beautiful winter day to take a stroll near Central Park.

Organized chronologically, the show explains his heritage and education and displays early works – mostly canvases but also illustration and graphic design – many done while he was living in an artist colony in Ridgefield, NJ in the 1910s. It was really when Man Ray [real name: Emmanuel Radnitzky] moved to Paris in the 1920s that he began photography, apparently because he could not make enough money with paintings. He became known for his portraits of artists and writers, but one of his most famous images is of Kiki de Montparnasse, “Le Violon d’Ingres” (1924).

I enjoyed seeing the works from his Paris period the most, and in particular learning about his rayographs and the process of making them. Throughout the exhibit, several self-portraits are shown, of which the ink on paper from 1914 – in which he has dark smoky eyes and expressive eyebrows – was the most striking to me. And (who knew?) there is a whole room at the end devoted to works he made in Hollywood in the 1930s, in a style that struck me as worlds away from his earlier photographs and paintings.

Biographical information on May Ray can be found at Wikipedia, PBS/American Masters, and New York Times.
The exhibit is on display until March 14 – plan your visit here.

Happy travels!

KANDINSKY is a vast and thorough retrospective of the artist’s work, organized in conjunction with the museum’s 50th anniversary. Instead of delving into art history, I will let you read more about Wassily Kandinsky on Artnet and Wikipedia and at the exhibition website. Traveling in a sea of tourists, sans audio guide, I had to make extra efforts to read the (occasionally hidden) text panels which ended up being enough background information for me, at least for this visit.

The importance of music to Kandinsky, and how he aimed to create art that used music as a “new visual vocabulary,” is explained and emphasized throughout. This information is a helpful and revealing way to look at his works. The show also emphasizes the way in which his work became less and less figurative as his career progressed. For example, it explains how the use of the “horse and rider” motif is repeated but you can see it literally getting more and more abstract as you look at the paintings in progression. It is written that Kandinsky purposefully went into abstraction transitionally – so the public could follow.

Photos are not allowed above the ground level of the museum – and it is hard to describe such abstract paintings meaningfully – so if you are a Kandinsky fan or interested in his work, I would recommend seeing the show in person. I found myself drawn to works with a focus on the center of the canvas, such as “Improvisation 26” (1912), which also uses black outlines to define certain shapes. Certain works also acquired a bit more monumentality when they were displayed on solo on a wall – this allows more viewing space and also emphasizes the scale.

The experience of seeing these works in the fantastic space of the Guggenheim added another dimension to my visit. I couldn’t help but realize, throughout the exhibit, how much of what I was feeling was a direct result of the physical surroundings and the layout of the museum. Even if I spent a minute focused on a painting, the second I started walking again, I was back into this interactive viewing experience. You can see everyone else going through the progression of paintings, and it is hard not to spend a moment watching that as well – somehow two shows in one?

These observations aren’t unique to my experience – it is pretty clear that the interior of the Guggenheim, all curvilinear and organic, is very different than most other spaces [there are whole courses on the subject of museum space planning.] I wondered if my perception of the works was affected by the space they were exhibited in. This led me to thinking about the challenge of putting a show together in the space, as it can be a burden or a blessing but in the end nothing really compares. Calling all Art History buffs … anyone want to dust off their old Museum Studies textbooks with me?

Also on view is Anish Kapoor: Memory which I unfortunately only caught a glimpse of. More importantly, the Kandinsky show is only on display until January 13th (less than one week from today!), so if your New Year’s resolution involved being more cultural, there’s no time to dilly-dally like I did.

Happy travels!

When Robert Frank’s “The Americans” opened at the Met a little while ago it was all over the press it seemed. I cannot remember if I ever read any of the reviews fully (some were very loooong and as previously established time is a commodity), but I know I wanted to see it. Yet it wasn’t a dire must-see-now kind of feeling, so off it went on the backburner for a moment while I explored other things.

But now that the show has been open for a while, the buzz has died and perhaps it seemed like less of an ordeal to finally go. Arm in arm with my fellow tourer (my friend Z, who is always game), I stuck to the usual plan of attack for the Met: pick two or three things prior to arrival at the museum. A brilliant tactic which helps to avoid there-is-so-much-to-see-and-i-am-distracted-by-too-many-fanny-packs syndrome.

We went straight to the Frank exhibit, and plunged ourselves right in. Sometimes after reading an introductory blurb I will (subconciously?) make the decision that reading all of the text is unnecessary and read the captions buffet-style. Other factors can also affect this decision, I believe: volume of tourists, intake of caffeine, general interest level. But for this visit I really did read all of the text and it didn’t seem like a burden, in fact it served its purpose quite well. The curators do a great job of giving background information and setting up the actual display of all 50 or so photographs. It is always inspiring to see an artist’s process, and by showing some of Frank’s contact sheets one is able to see that many of the shots were single takes. This makes them all the more amazing and genuine.

The fact that the exhibit is organized in a very strict order (the sequential pages of the book) could be seen as a limitation. But really you are just reading through the book from start to finish, quite logical. One can always choose to go back to favorite passages after seeing the entirety.

Our only other selected stop for the day was to see Vermeer’s “The Milkmaid,” also subject of much buzz and press. I figured this would be a Mona Lisa-eque experience, what with so much hubbub around just one painting, but the gallery was actually quite calm. I enjoyed seeing it in person, but really preferred seeing “A Milkmaid Asleep” (1657) as well – the light at the patterns are gorgeously rendered. The way the whole show was marketed made it even more like the Mona Lisa, as in the point is just to be able to say you have seen it. Regardless, I can’t say it was a bad thing to be able to see it.

happy travels & celebrations too!

And if you do not recognize from the photo, I fortunately found myself in Boston for this one wacky day of fall.  Boston, home of many a college student and “emaciated vegan cyclists” [thank you Olivia, I could not have said it better myself], and also home of the glorious Museum of Fine Arts.  For all of the times where I have been frustrated with Boston and its issues (see: the mega-frustrating T), the MFA has been a shining beacon of hope and modernity.

A few weeks ago the museum opened its big blockbuster show “The Secrets of Tomb 10A: Egypt 2000 BC.”  Though not a subject I would normally travel to see, there was little reason not to at least take a breezy stroll through.  Luckily, even this speedy tour made it clear that this is an incredibly well presented and important show.  My fellow tourers and I agreed it was ultimately geared towards middle school tour groups, but presenting that volume of information in an engaging manner is no small feat.  It did make me think about the old Elgin Marbles issue, of whether or not these kind of artifacts belong back in their home countries, but nonetheless it was amazing to get to see the inside of a tomb that is 4,000 years old without sweating under the Egyptian sun.

Still in the midst of important construction and the addition of a new wing, the rest of the museum is in a bit of a temporary phase.  Getting acquainted with the new layout and galleries, we literally stumbled on the contemporary exhibit “Contemporary Outlook: Seeing Songs”.  The most basic explanation of the exhibit by Candice Breitz is that it consists of 30 or so TV screens, all showing individuals singing Madonna (in their own “soundbooths”, but in played sync.) At first I wanted to dismiss this as silly “conceptual” art, but embarrassingly enough I found myself completely enthralled.  How can you not stop and stare at videos of people (entirely seriously) singing Madonna songs?  It is kind of amazing, not only to see the different interpretations, but also for raising the question of “is this art?” and wondering about this work’s legitimate place in such an important collection. And after musing on that highbrow question for a while, you could also just say it is a whole lot of fun to watch.

The one show that made the visit most worthwhile for me was one of the smaller ones. Titled “VIVA MEXICO!”, it presented photos by Edward Weston with just the right amount of background information and corollary works.  Not too hot, not cold, just right.  Stunning images presented clearly and in the right quantity to keep the viewer’s attention.  Sadly this exhibit is now closed (very sorry).

I will leave you with more photos from the Boston trip, to prove that fall did in fact happen, and also to introduce the new face of the MFA.  If you are familiar with the MFA, it is a strange feeling to enter through the Fens side, it almost feels like an entirely different museum.

Next time I promise to stay local and get to my tour via public transportation (although clearly the bus to Boston is no 1st class journey.)

happy travels!

Two weekends ago, a friend and I made a visit to the Morgan Library, on Lexington Avenue at 36th Street. If you’re not familiar it once belonged to JP Morgan and is now a beautiful space encompassing some of the original digs and also newly renovated exhibition areas. A very thorough exhibit about the evolution of the space (on display in the lower level) will inform you that the Morgan’s original residence still stands next door to the library, which was constructed as a separate building to house the enormous collection of books. The institution became public in 1924.

If you go you cannot miss Mr Morgan’s study, decorated in floor-to-ceiling red silk damask, which lends quite the luxurious feeling. The room does not particularly get a lot of light, strange considering it was a study, but it is still easy to imagine Mr Morgan working away, with a fire going, surrounded by some of his beautiful books. Another one of the original rooms is the actual “library” – and though it contains an already ridiculous amount of books I have a feeling it’s not even the entire collection. The best part is how close you can get and actually read titles off the spines of books – most all in gorgeous leather bindings, for example a copy of Candide from 1759 as well as probably most every major work of literature. You can get into a debate about how many of these were actually read, but at least they are being well-preserved here.

If fancy institutions and capitalism aren’t your thing, there is also art to be seen in Red Hook (holla back Brooklyn). Though I have been to Red Hook countless times before, this time I was wearing a backpack and wielding a camera – and so I have automatically dubbed this a field trip (in case you thought I made all of my Grand Tour trips looking like a study abroad student – no, I do not.)

One thing that draws people by the busload to Red Hook is the Fairway market – that place is amazing at times, frustrating at others – but did you know that in one of the warehouses directly next to it, the BWAC [Brooklyn Waterfront Artists Coalition] lives? Well, I did but I had never actually been in there until last weekend and I did not actually know what the BWAC was – which is, according to the website, the largest artist-run not for profit in Brooklyn. It is a good thing I didn’t wait any longer to go in because it was the last day of their show (sorry yes this show is now closed). BUT at least I saw some interesting art by living artists, and know about another local group supporting the arts. There are several artists in the buildings – I saw a woodsmith turning pieces outside and walked by a glass blowing studio as well.

While the show is now closed, Red Hook is also just fantastic to walk through – not only for the amazing views of the statue of Liberty and Manhattan, but also for cool old warehouses and a still interesting mix of gentrification and authenticity. You should make a mental note to wander beyond the gates of Fairway (or the parking lot of IKEA) when you find yourself in Red Hook. If nothing else at least go have a delicious brownie at Baked, there’s no excuse.

I leave you with this view from Red Hook (which could just as well be the view from a Massachusetts compound, no?)

happy almost winter and happy travels!