It Was a Dark and Bloggy Night
I decided to indulge a short-attention span fit by checking out some gallery openings in Chelsea tonight. I had heard that Patti Smith was having an opening tonight. I’ve never seen her artwork, so that was my other inspiration to get out there. (The prospect of free wine doesn’t hurt, either.)
Not only do you get to see great art in Chelsea (if you pick a good Thursday) but there is also great people watching. In the Robert Miller Gallery which was displaying Patti Smith’s and Jem Cohen’s work I saw a cute and arty couple. They were a man and woman, probably in their 60s, both wearing glasses. The woman had a very wide bob hairstyle that was dyed cartoon-pink and the man had one of those fancy mustaches that curls up on the ends. Another man was wearing what appeared to be a latex helmet/hat that was form fitted to his head. Most of the back of his skull was covered but there were cut-out areas for his ears, which were pierced with large discs, although not the largest ear discs I’ve seen, mind you.
But, back to the art… I enjoyed Patti’s work very much! There were some captivating vignette sepia photos in one room and in another room, provocative imagery of religious sculptures shrouded in clear plastic, taken inside of a church that was being renovated. Another piece that held my attention was a drawing made of tiny, illegible words forming a silhouette shape that was unmistakably of wreckage from the World Trade Center 9/11 disaster.
Back out on the street I had a nice interaction with a fellow who thought I was French! If only! We were both trying to cross the street in the middle of the block, as one does when gallery hopping, and he asked me something in French, then when I did not respond, said “Are you French?” This reminds me of another “Frenchie on the Street” incident. It was a warm spring day, I was walking to meet some friends at a tapas bar off of 6th Ave. with my head in the clouds. As I passed a man walking in the opposite direction he said “Oui, ma Fille!” (he pronounced “oui” informally: “way.”) This literally translates to “Yeah, my Woman/Lady!” and ten steps later I realized he was saying “Yeah, Baby!” in French. I was sad that I hadn’t had time to react because that was one of the best compliments I’ve heard!
Anyhoo… back to Chelsea. Another show I enjoyed was Izima Kaoru, a Japanese fashion photographer whose subjects are famous models and actresses from Japan, dressed in couture fashions. The are posed in images/scenes based on their death fantasies. There is no gore or blood and the photography is super-sharp and beautiful. In his other life, Kaoru is a fashion photographer. That was at the Von Lintel gallery.
Of course there were a few other places that I wasn’t so moved by or just didn’t grab any info so now I can’t remember who the artist was. An example of one of those was a show of sculpture that looked mighty familiar, wish I could remember. The medium was metal rods and thick construction wire shaped into twisting, enlarged-dna-like shapes. I also missed out on a group photography show which included work by Nan Goldin and Larry Clark. I went inside, along with some other art lovers, but most of the lights were turned off, I got the hint that the staff wanted us to leave! I should also add, if you like boob art, check out the Rogue Gallery, with watercolors by Theresa Byrnes!
So, I’m glad I went. The little French incident makes me think I need to keep on working on Adelé and brainstorming some stories for her. Goodnight!
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