I came across a really disturbing article on CNN yesterday. Basically, the claim is being made that diet soda is just as bad and perhaps even worse than regular soda. Just looking at the headline I was inclined to disbelieve the study, since it is inconvenient to me and my way of life. There have been so many medical studies, particularly about what incurs or deters cancer, that have to be retracted later that I have largely stopped believing in all of them. It seems to be an unfortunate combination of uninformed journalism and the fact that human bodies are so complex that it is hard to carry out rigorous studies on them.
As I read on, however, the findings started to ring very true, particularly how the artificial sweetness tricks the body into thinking it is about to get calories from sugar. Then when those sugars cannot be digested and turned into energy, the body compensates by going into a kind of fugue state and increasing one's hunger until one gives in and has some kind of snack. (I suppose this would probably be the same issue with chewing gum, so that's worth thinking over as well...) I have felt that my blood sugar levels are somewhat out of whack, and I have had tremendous hunger pains when I know objectively that I have eaten enough.
The good news is that I am not completely addicted to caffeine, though I do lean on it. Most of the studies have found that, when controlling for volume, coffee has 5 times the caffeine of soda. Black tea has 1.5 times the caffeine of soda, though obviously herbal tea (which is what I normally drink when having tea) has much less. Usually on the rare occasions I get sick, I was able to stay off soda for a week or so without suffering too much.
Part of me thinks it is kind of pointless to try to change my life at this point (and that I have already given up (or never started) so much -- meat, alcohol, coffee, smoking, no drugs -- other than the occasional second-hand buzz at concerts) that it just seems unwise to try to give up soda and diet soda completely, even if I do partly replace it with tea. I probably would have to stop going to all the going-away parties at work (and there have been a lot of them!), since there is no reasonable alternative to alcohol or soda when you go to a bar after work. (And no matter how you try to downplay it, you start coming across as a Sanctimonious Sam). However, I can sense that there is something off with my body's balance, which has been worrying me for a while. I'm going to slowly move into this phase (and I will drink up all the soda I've already paid for), but I'll try to switch over to tea (probably black tea in the morning and herbal tea in afternoon and evenings) and see how it goes. If it goes particularly well, then maybe I'll see about cutting back at the snacking at my desk and the late-night snacking. On the other hand, I may just end up so edgy and unpleasant to be around that it isn't worth continuing down this path.
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
Monday, October 10, 2016
Rejiggered weekend
This weekend ended up being almost completely different than I expected. I had basically thought I would take the kids (or my son at least) to the AGO on Sat., and then I would see Master Harold and the Boys up in North York on Sun. At one point, I was going to see if a neighbour wanted to go, but then she remembered this just wasn't a play that she liked (and indeed Sizwe Banzi is Dead is a much superior play -- probably Fugard's best). However, the real kicker came when I realized that the TTC had shut down the subway from Pape to St. George for the entire weekend, even Thanksgiving Day! Pretty lame if you ask me. I just do not like dealing with the replacement shuttle buses.
That meant that Harold had to be pushed off to next weekend (and I still haven't booked tickets, though I'll try to do that tonight). I ended up biking to work on Sat. (missing the rain that bookended the day). Sunday I took it relatively easy, and in fact read a few of the plays that have been piling up around here. I found that I really disliked Albee's Little Alice (and will be fairly suspicious of any critic who strongly praised it). I also found in general that O'Casey's Juno and the Paycock is just too imbalanced with far too much attention given over to the shiftless Captain Jack Boyle. He's basically a Falstaffian character, like Fluther in The Plough and the Stars, but he sucks up so much attention and isn't challenged (at least in the scenes I could stomach reading, as I got sick of him very quickly) and the balance is way off. I can't see sitting through a full production of this (or Shadow of a Gunman either for that matter).
I also went ahead and tried to book a 4-play subscription to Soulpepper, and ended up being quite outraged at the prices they were charging for Hosanna, including the fact that the only discounted tickets at all were in the first 2 rows. I decided I just am not going to pay those prices. I am going to bike over in about 10 minutes to see if I can get rush seats (though still not in the front row), but if not, I am going to skip this play. I won't cut Soulpepper out of my life entirely, but it is true that I mostly am seeing co-productions and not full Soulpepper productions this year. (Since I do need some flexibility and may need to switch tickets down the road, I finally booked my subscription with La Chasse-Galerie instead.) But I feel kind of alienated from their overall approach to putting seasons together and certainly from how they price their shows!
In the end, I took my son to the AGO on Monday, since it was one of the few things that was open. I wouldn't say that I was terribly interested in their show about Toronto artists from 1971-89, but there were a few nice pieces. We saw just a bit of Vera Frenkel's video about stories she picked up while living in Vancouver, but it was far too long to stay for the whole thing. (In general, I think museums are missing out by not selling DVDs of the videos that they host, since few of us really will watch them all the way through.)
I'm not sure quite how I would classify John Scott's Trans Am Apocalypse No. 3, which is an actual Trans Am painted black with the entire Book of Revelations scratched into the paint, but it was certainly memorable.
Overall, this era represents a time that I wasn't that deeply into art, and it is also the time when the art world started moving into conceptual art and generally away from craft. I am much more interested in art or at least artists whose formative and/or prime years were 1880-1950. That is why I am quite excited about the next major blockbuster exhibit, Mystical Landscapes, which I expect to see a few times while it is here.
Anyway, the whole weekend got a bit scrambled, and it is also quite a bit colder than it was last week, so that has made me a bit extra grumpy. I also didn't quite get enough done (either for work or in my creative writing) and this upcoming week I really need to deal with this broken doorframe. So, as always, there is a lot on my mind.
Edit (10/11): I managed to get rush tickets for Hosanna, and it was worth seeing, but not at $75. While I am generally loathe to encourage people to go in that direction of trying to get rush tickets, there is a real gap now that TOTix has closed, so finding deals and discounted tickets is much more hit or miss. I thought the play had its moments, but it was kind of exhausting hearing two gay men banter and attack each other, sometimes playfully, sometimes not. It's about two relatively fragile souls who probably would not have been quite so cruel to each other (or themselves) had they grown up in an era where homosexuality is generally more accepted (at least in urban centers in Canada, the U.S. and Western Europe). I don't really have anything particularly profound to say about the play right now.
That meant that Harold had to be pushed off to next weekend (and I still haven't booked tickets, though I'll try to do that tonight). I ended up biking to work on Sat. (missing the rain that bookended the day). Sunday I took it relatively easy, and in fact read a few of the plays that have been piling up around here. I found that I really disliked Albee's Little Alice (and will be fairly suspicious of any critic who strongly praised it). I also found in general that O'Casey's Juno and the Paycock is just too imbalanced with far too much attention given over to the shiftless Captain Jack Boyle. He's basically a Falstaffian character, like Fluther in The Plough and the Stars, but he sucks up so much attention and isn't challenged (at least in the scenes I could stomach reading, as I got sick of him very quickly) and the balance is way off. I can't see sitting through a full production of this (or Shadow of a Gunman either for that matter).
I also went ahead and tried to book a 4-play subscription to Soulpepper, and ended up being quite outraged at the prices they were charging for Hosanna, including the fact that the only discounted tickets at all were in the first 2 rows. I decided I just am not going to pay those prices. I am going to bike over in about 10 minutes to see if I can get rush seats (though still not in the front row), but if not, I am going to skip this play. I won't cut Soulpepper out of my life entirely, but it is true that I mostly am seeing co-productions and not full Soulpepper productions this year. (Since I do need some flexibility and may need to switch tickets down the road, I finally booked my subscription with La Chasse-Galerie instead.) But I feel kind of alienated from their overall approach to putting seasons together and certainly from how they price their shows!
In the end, I took my son to the AGO on Monday, since it was one of the few things that was open. I wouldn't say that I was terribly interested in their show about Toronto artists from 1971-89, but there were a few nice pieces. We saw just a bit of Vera Frenkel's video about stories she picked up while living in Vancouver, but it was far too long to stay for the whole thing. (In general, I think museums are missing out by not selling DVDs of the videos that they host, since few of us really will watch them all the way through.)
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| Brian Kipping, Dry Cleaners at Night, 1984 |
I'm not sure quite how I would classify John Scott's Trans Am Apocalypse No. 3, which is an actual Trans Am painted black with the entire Book of Revelations scratched into the paint, but it was certainly memorable.
Overall, this era represents a time that I wasn't that deeply into art, and it is also the time when the art world started moving into conceptual art and generally away from craft. I am much more interested in art or at least artists whose formative and/or prime years were 1880-1950. That is why I am quite excited about the next major blockbuster exhibit, Mystical Landscapes, which I expect to see a few times while it is here.
Anyway, the whole weekend got a bit scrambled, and it is also quite a bit colder than it was last week, so that has made me a bit extra grumpy. I also didn't quite get enough done (either for work or in my creative writing) and this upcoming week I really need to deal with this broken doorframe. So, as always, there is a lot on my mind.
Edit (10/11): I managed to get rush tickets for Hosanna, and it was worth seeing, but not at $75. While I am generally loathe to encourage people to go in that direction of trying to get rush tickets, there is a real gap now that TOTix has closed, so finding deals and discounted tickets is much more hit or miss. I thought the play had its moments, but it was kind of exhausting hearing two gay men banter and attack each other, sometimes playfully, sometimes not. It's about two relatively fragile souls who probably would not have been quite so cruel to each other (or themselves) had they grown up in an era where homosexuality is generally more accepted (at least in urban centers in Canada, the U.S. and Western Europe). I don't really have anything particularly profound to say about the play right now.
Sunday, October 9, 2016
August travels - pt 2 (Chicago)
The Chicago leg of the trip was marginally more relaxed. At one point, we had planned to run up to Milwaukee, but my cousin and his family were not in town (we missed each other by about 2 days). So we had a day of just chillin' in Chicago.
Getting to Chicago itself was just a bit fraught. Fortunately, I had gotten there on the early side (and I didn't have any checked luggage). There were some weather delays affecting many flights. I managed to go stand by on the flight ahead of mine. (I haven't managed to go stand by (without paying extra) for ages.) While that flight left 30 to 45 minutes late, my original flight was considerably delayed. I really can't recall much about that evening, though I think I ended up doing some work and emailing it in.
The next morning, I set off to the Chicago Cultural Center. While I usually like the exhibits there (and am quite stoked to see Norman Lewis exhibit in just a few more weeks), it was definitely underwhelming this time around. I also don't like the changes they have to made to the main floor. It just didn't feel welcoming at all, and just in general Chicago felt very depressing to me on this visit.
The rest of Sunday was devoted to theatre. I saw Sister Cities and stuck around for a while to participate in the talk-back with the playwright. Then I took the CTA up to catch Fefu and Her Friends. I blogged about both plays a while back.
Monday there were not that many museums open (though I suppose the Field Museum and the Museum of Science and Industry were). In any case, I took the kids to the Art Institute. My daughter really wanted to see the miniature rooms in the basement, so we started there.
I was not expecting to see this Romare Bearden piece in the basement, but it was a nice surprise.
This time around, the main draw were the exhibits in the Modern Wing. They had a photography exhibit featuring Gordon Parks and his work in Harlem with a special focus on his efforts to illustrate Ellison's Invisible Man.
I might have riffed on Jeff Wall's slightly more overwhelming take on the book already. While in some ways I prefer Wall's version, Parks was working directly with Ellison, so there is no question which is closer to what Ellison had in mind.
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The other exhibit was focused on U.S. paintings from the 1930s. There were of course several Hopper and O'Keeffe paintings, as well as Archibald Motley's Saturday Night (on loan from Howard University).
Once again, I think the Art Institute sort of dropped the ball, by not having a short note telling visitors to go look at Motley's Nightlife in the appropriate gallery.
Since Nightlife was painted in the 1940s it couldn't be part of the show, but I still don't know why they didn't loan it out to the Motley exhibit the year prior.*
I think the 2nd most interesting painting they brought in (as opposed to being drawn from their collections, which constituted the the bulk of the show) was this fairly creepy piece on loan from MoMA.
We did have to sort of cut the museum trip short a bit after seeing the Modern Wing, as the children were getting a bit restless.
Tuesday, I went downtown and had lunch with a colleague from a previous job. Then I took the kids off my wife's hands and took them to the MCA. I had wanted them to check out the Kerry James Marshall exhibit. The exhibit is very comprehensive with basically all his masterworks in one place. It will be opening soon at the Met and will run through Jan. 2017, and then will transfer to MOCA in Los Angeles in the spring. I would certainly encourage interested folks to check it out, as I did come away with a deeper respect for his work.
I'll post a couple of paintings that I thought worked particularly well, but due to the way that Marshall represents Black people, his paintings are quite difficult to actually reproduce and are better seen in person.
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We stayed downtown and had just a bit of time to explore Millennium Park and Maggie Daley Park before heading off to Midway. I was very burdened by a heavy suitcase filled with all kinds of books and CDs (including the Motley catalog), but somehow we got on the plane and then through customs without any snags. I was glad to be back in Toronto, though I did feel that I could definitely have used another day or two of actual vacation...
* Actually, Nightlife was technically in the Motley show (and thus it is in the catalogue) but only was shown at 1 of the 5 locations, and it was definitely not on view at the Chicago Cultural Center. So strange.
Getting to Chicago itself was just a bit fraught. Fortunately, I had gotten there on the early side (and I didn't have any checked luggage). There were some weather delays affecting many flights. I managed to go stand by on the flight ahead of mine. (I haven't managed to go stand by (without paying extra) for ages.) While that flight left 30 to 45 minutes late, my original flight was considerably delayed. I really can't recall much about that evening, though I think I ended up doing some work and emailing it in.
The next morning, I set off to the Chicago Cultural Center. While I usually like the exhibits there (and am quite stoked to see Norman Lewis exhibit in just a few more weeks), it was definitely underwhelming this time around. I also don't like the changes they have to made to the main floor. It just didn't feel welcoming at all, and just in general Chicago felt very depressing to me on this visit.
The rest of Sunday was devoted to theatre. I saw Sister Cities and stuck around for a while to participate in the talk-back with the playwright. Then I took the CTA up to catch Fefu and Her Friends. I blogged about both plays a while back.
Monday there were not that many museums open (though I suppose the Field Museum and the Museum of Science and Industry were). In any case, I took the kids to the Art Institute. My daughter really wanted to see the miniature rooms in the basement, so we started there.
I was not expecting to see this Romare Bearden piece in the basement, but it was a nice surprise.
 |
| Romare Bearden, The Street, 1964 |
This time around, the main draw were the exhibits in the Modern Wing. They had a photography exhibit featuring Gordon Parks and his work in Harlem with a special focus on his efforts to illustrate Ellison's Invisible Man.
 |
| Gordon Parks. Untitled (Harlem, New York), 1952 |
I might have riffed on Jeff Wall's slightly more overwhelming take on the book already. While in some ways I prefer Wall's version, Parks was working directly with Ellison, so there is no question which is closer to what Ellison had in mind.
 |
.
The other exhibit was focused on U.S. paintings from the 1930s. There were of course several Hopper and O'Keeffe paintings, as well as Archibald Motley's Saturday Night (on loan from Howard University).
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| Archibald J. Motley Jr., Saturday Night, 1935 |
Once again, I think the Art Institute sort of dropped the ball, by not having a short note telling visitors to go look at Motley's Nightlife in the appropriate gallery.
 |
| Archibald J. Motley Jr., Nightlife, 1943 |
Since Nightlife was painted in the 1940s it couldn't be part of the show, but I still don't know why they didn't loan it out to the Motley exhibit the year prior.*
I think the 2nd most interesting painting they brought in (as opposed to being drawn from their collections, which constituted the the bulk of the show) was this fairly creepy piece on loan from MoMA.
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| Peter Blume, The Eternal City, 1934-37 |
We did have to sort of cut the museum trip short a bit after seeing the Modern Wing, as the children were getting a bit restless.
Tuesday, I went downtown and had lunch with a colleague from a previous job. Then I took the kids off my wife's hands and took them to the MCA. I had wanted them to check out the Kerry James Marshall exhibit. The exhibit is very comprehensive with basically all his masterworks in one place. It will be opening soon at the Met and will run through Jan. 2017, and then will transfer to MOCA in Los Angeles in the spring. I would certainly encourage interested folks to check it out, as I did come away with a deeper respect for his work.
I'll post a couple of paintings that I thought worked particularly well, but due to the way that Marshall represents Black people, his paintings are quite difficult to actually reproduce and are better seen in person.
 |
| Kerry James Marshall, Campfire Girls, 1995 |
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| Kerry James Marshall, Souvenir I, 1997 |
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We stayed downtown and had just a bit of time to explore Millennium Park and Maggie Daley Park before heading off to Midway. I was very burdened by a heavy suitcase filled with all kinds of books and CDs (including the Motley catalog), but somehow we got on the plane and then through customs without any snags. I was glad to be back in Toronto, though I did feel that I could definitely have used another day or two of actual vacation...
* Actually, Nightlife was technically in the Motley show (and thus it is in the catalogue) but only was shown at 1 of the 5 locations, and it was definitely not on view at the Chicago Cultural Center. So strange.
August travels - part 1B (High Line/ Whitney)
I had heard quite a bit about the High Line, and I managed to get down to the 14th St. entrance at 6 pm. That gave me a bit of time to check out the High Line and then to get dinner before heading over to the Whitney. I figured I might as well wait until 7 pm to get in on the Pay What You Want deal.
I had sort of thought that after the visit to the Whitney, I would then walk back on the High Line all the way to Hell's Kitchen, as I then wouldn't be all that far from my hotel (which was slightly west of the Port Authority Bus Terminal). Not to give too much away, but my feet were absolutely killing me after another couple of hours walking through a museum (the third museum of the day) and it had gotten really dark by that point, so I ended up going back to the subway. Also, while I liked the High Line, it was far more of a park with an amazing view, and much less of an efficient transportation corridor. Chicago now has some elevated structure called The 606 (a few more details here) and its primary focus is on being an elevated bikeway and is a park second (not that I don't expect there to be some conflicts around these uses down the road (or bikepath).) Cyclists aren't even allowed to ride their bikes on the High Line, which I thought was quite unfair until I went up there and saw that it really was not appropriate for going fast but rather for meandering and just taking in the view. So without further ado, here are a few of my pictures of the High Line.
As I said, the views are quite stunning, and perhaps on my next visit I will pace myself better so that I can walk the whole thing. Anyway, I got to the Whitney at about 7:10 and the line was quite long see below). It felt longer than the lines used to be at the old location, but maybe that is just my imagination. It moved reasonably quickly, however.
I was there primarily to see the Stuart Davis exhibit, but I checked out the art on all the other floors as well. I don't have the floor plan or anything, but it felt to me that this was a real wasted opportunity and that the Whitney actually has less space for its permanent collection than before. It isn't quite as bad as the MCA in Chicago (which I feel is a completely unforgivable waste of the available footprint) but I was expecting they would have doubled the exhibit space, more akin to where the MoMA ended up.
It's a little hard to see from this photo, but Standing Julian is actually a larger-than-life-size candle in that doubles as a "portrait" of Julian Schnabel. Over the course of the exhibit, it will burn down perhaps as low as the torso. (I would expect the legs would not stand on their own and become a fire hazard, but perhaps they will brace them somehow if the candle actually does burn down that far. Actually, it is only today that I noticed the fire extinguisher back by the window!)
By now, I was quite prepped for the Stuart Davis exhibit. It really did cover all the major bases with quite a few of his early Paris scenes and then the major paintings held by the Met and the Whitney and the Brooklyn Museum. I was pleased that this painting in the Cornell University collection was included, so that I don't have to road trip to Ithaca just to see one painting. (I probably would never have gone to Lincoln, NE to see Arch Hotel, so that was another bonus.)
The major paintings were all there. For some reason, The Mellow Pad (owned by the Brooklyn Museum) didn't grab me as much as Report from Rockport (owned by the Met), perhaps because it felt like marginally more controlled chaos.
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The Whitney itself owns two of the more important paintings in the show -- Owh! in San Pao and The Paris Bit.
I was impressed that they had managed to borrow Stuart Davis paintings from the Art Institute of Chicago, and even the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum in Madrid. The latter museum had requested that no photos be taken of their painting (Pochade), not that this stopped most visitors and the guards seemed fairly indifferent, but I will respect their wishes here. I actually bought Pochade on a refrigerator magnet on my trip to Madrid, though I haven't been able to turn that up. One day...
In terms of paintings that were completely unfamiliar to me, I think my favorite was For Internal Use Only from the Wake Forest University museum in Winston-Salem.
One thing that I particularly liked about the second part of the exhibit is that it focused on the serial nature of Davis's art -- how he kept returning to compositions and reorganizing them and changing the color scheme. I could only fit three of four into this photo (along with the disembodied arm of another art tourist).
The exhibit ended appropriately enough with Fin, which was Davis's last painting (itself in a somewhat incomplete state with masking tape still on the canvas). I thought it was quite a privilege to see this in person, since it is in a private collection and is only loaned out on very special occasions.
As I mentioned before, the exhibit has closed in New York and will be reopening fairly soon at the National Gallery in D.C. I hope to make it down there, but that is by no means guaranteed.
At the gift shop, I didn't pick up the catalog (In Full Swing), mostly because I have so many other ones covering his work, though it does look like a pretty decent one, and if I ever see one at a super discount, I'll probably bite. I did get a small pin inspired by his art, and I probably should have gotten some hipster socks, but I passed. (Maybe just as well, given how much I ended up having to carry back from Chicago.) I was kind of astonished that they had quite a few copies of the Archibald Motley catalog that had gone out of print, so I went back and forth and finally grabbed one. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it was part of an unannounced sale. Score!
All in all, it was a very enjoyable visit, though a bit exhausting overall. I made it back to the hotel and read a bit and got ready for another half day in New York.
I had sort of thought that after the visit to the Whitney, I would then walk back on the High Line all the way to Hell's Kitchen, as I then wouldn't be all that far from my hotel (which was slightly west of the Port Authority Bus Terminal). Not to give too much away, but my feet were absolutely killing me after another couple of hours walking through a museum (the third museum of the day) and it had gotten really dark by that point, so I ended up going back to the subway. Also, while I liked the High Line, it was far more of a park with an amazing view, and much less of an efficient transportation corridor. Chicago now has some elevated structure called The 606 (a few more details here) and its primary focus is on being an elevated bikeway and is a park second (not that I don't expect there to be some conflicts around these uses down the road (or bikepath).) Cyclists aren't even allowed to ride their bikes on the High Line, which I thought was quite unfair until I went up there and saw that it really was not appropriate for going fast but rather for meandering and just taking in the view. So without further ado, here are a few of my pictures of the High Line.
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| Traffic watching... |
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| Everyone's gotta hustle, even on the High Line |
As I said, the views are quite stunning, and perhaps on my next visit I will pace myself better so that I can walk the whole thing. Anyway, I got to the Whitney at about 7:10 and the line was quite long see below). It felt longer than the lines used to be at the old location, but maybe that is just my imagination. It moved reasonably quickly, however.
I was there primarily to see the Stuart Davis exhibit, but I checked out the art on all the other floors as well. I don't have the floor plan or anything, but it felt to me that this was a real wasted opportunity and that the Whitney actually has less space for its permanent collection than before. It isn't quite as bad as the MCA in Chicago (which I feel is a completely unforgivable waste of the available footprint) but I was expecting they would have doubled the exhibit space, more akin to where the MoMA ended up.
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| Njideka Akunyili Crosby, Portals (detail), 2016 |
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| Susan Hall, New York Portrait, 1970 |
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| Urs Fischer, Standing Julian, 2015 |
By now, I was quite prepped for the Stuart Davis exhibit. It really did cover all the major bases with quite a few of his early Paris scenes and then the major paintings held by the Met and the Whitney and the Brooklyn Museum. I was pleased that this painting in the Cornell University collection was included, so that I don't have to road trip to Ithaca just to see one painting. (I probably would never have gone to Lincoln, NE to see Arch Hotel, so that was another bonus.)
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| Stuart Davis, Place des Vosges No. 2, 1928 |
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| Stuart Davis, Arch Hotel, 1929 |
The major paintings were all there. For some reason, The Mellow Pad (owned by the Brooklyn Museum) didn't grab me as much as Report from Rockport (owned by the Met), perhaps because it felt like marginally more controlled chaos.
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| Stuart Davis, Report from Rockport, 1940 |
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The Whitney itself owns two of the more important paintings in the show -- Owh! in San Pao and The Paris Bit.
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| Stuart Davis, Owh! in San Pao, 1951 |
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| Stuart Davis, The Paris Bit, 1959 |
I was impressed that they had managed to borrow Stuart Davis paintings from the Art Institute of Chicago, and even the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum in Madrid. The latter museum had requested that no photos be taken of their painting (Pochade), not that this stopped most visitors and the guards seemed fairly indifferent, but I will respect their wishes here. I actually bought Pochade on a refrigerator magnet on my trip to Madrid, though I haven't been able to turn that up. One day...
In terms of paintings that were completely unfamiliar to me, I think my favorite was For Internal Use Only from the Wake Forest University museum in Winston-Salem.
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| Stuart Davis, For Internal Use Only, 1944-45 |
One thing that I particularly liked about the second part of the exhibit is that it focused on the serial nature of Davis's art -- how he kept returning to compositions and reorganizing them and changing the color scheme. I could only fit three of four into this photo (along with the disembodied arm of another art tourist).
The exhibit ended appropriately enough with Fin, which was Davis's last painting (itself in a somewhat incomplete state with masking tape still on the canvas). I thought it was quite a privilege to see this in person, since it is in a private collection and is only loaned out on very special occasions.
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| Stuart Davis, Fin, 1962-64 |
As I mentioned before, the exhibit has closed in New York and will be reopening fairly soon at the National Gallery in D.C. I hope to make it down there, but that is by no means guaranteed.
At the gift shop, I didn't pick up the catalog (In Full Swing), mostly because I have so many other ones covering his work, though it does look like a pretty decent one, and if I ever see one at a super discount, I'll probably bite. I did get a small pin inspired by his art, and I probably should have gotten some hipster socks, but I passed. (Maybe just as well, given how much I ended up having to carry back from Chicago.) I was kind of astonished that they had quite a few copies of the Archibald Motley catalog that had gone out of print, so I went back and forth and finally grabbed one. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it was part of an unannounced sale. Score!
All in all, it was a very enjoyable visit, though a bit exhausting overall. I made it back to the hotel and read a bit and got ready for another half day in New York.
Friday, October 7, 2016
August travels - part 1A (NYC)
I only had a day and a half in New York. I stayed at some pod-like hotel, though this one had individual showers at least. I thought the robot arm they used to store and retrieve checked luggage was pretty cool. I'd probably stay there again.
I decided to focus on the Met and the Whitney on Friday, and then to hit the Guggenheim Sat. morning before heading out. This is one of the first times I've skipped MoMA, though we did spend most of a day there back in the spring.
I actually got up fairly early and decided to head to the Cloisters first. I do not routinely go there. In fact, I probably haven't been back in 10 years or so. The museum is fairly timeless, though they had shifted some of the carvings from the basement up to the main floor, but that was about the only change I could recognize.
I tried to be somewhat meditative on the walk through the grounds, and I also stopped and read a bit (Hill's The Book of Negroes).
On the way back, I took a slightly different path and found a huge tunnel I had never seen before, as well as the back of a lodge. I suppose it is true that, if you keep your eyes open, there is always something new, and in this case a bit magical, to uncover in Manhattan.
There wasn't a particular exhibit I wanted to see at the Met, but basically I go on every trip to New York. Many years ago, I used to have a set number of sites I always visited -- the Islamic room with its small fountain, the Chinese courtyard (also name-checked in Lethem's Chronic City), the Frank Lloyd Wright house (in the American Wing) and the Temple of Dundar. In recent visits, I usually skipped one or more of these, either due to time constraints or because they were closed for reconstruction. This time, however, I was able to get to all of them, as well as look at the 20th Century art wing, the Impressionists on the 2nd floor, and I made a quick pass through the American wing as well. It was probably the most thorough visit in years, though there was plenty I skipped of course. I even went up to the rooftop garden and saw this odd piece, which was a barn which had been reconfigured a bit to look like a house from a Hopper painting.
But it was really just the equivalent of a movie prop.
I was quite disappointed that the Beckmann triptych Beginning was not on view, though I did see it back in March. On the other hand, I was a bit surprised that the room with the Thomas Hart Benton murals was still up, but after reading a bit more about the transfer, it sounds like this might become a fairly permanent part of the Modern Wing. It is a bit hard to indicate the scale without seeing it in person.
As always it is a total embarrassment of riches at the Met, and it is hard to even decide what really caught my eye this time around -- the Chagalls, the Cezannes, the Vermeers, etc., though I was particularly drawn to this Cezanne.
As I mentioned, I spent a bit more time exploring the Asian galleries and the American Wing than I have on the past several trips. So that was a bit of a corrective. I will say I was fairly exhausted by this point, however, and had to convince myself a few times to keep pushing on.
I decided to skip the Met Breuer (at the site of the former Whitney Museum) and just head down to the new Whitney. This would give me a bit more time to explore the High Line before it got dark. Since I said previously that I would break off the discussion of the Stuart Davis exhibit into its own post, I'll also talk about the High Line at that point. I will say that I thought it was a pretty interesting space, but one that was only marginally useful for pedestrian movements. In most cases, you would be faster just sticking to walking on the street grid below.
I did see some fairly amusing sculptures inside the 14th Avenue subway station (en route to the High Line). This is an installation called Life Underground by Matt Otterness. I'd seen parts of it before, but I took a bit more time on this visit.
The next morning I work up fairly early and walked over to Times Square. I had wanted to see the Vikings exhibit at Discovery Times Square on the last trip, but no one was up for it. For quite a while I was the only tourist in the building, and there was only one other family that came to the Viking exhibit, which was in its final weeks. The costumes of Star Wars was doing slightly better business, but it was still too early for most tourists. Anyway, the Vikings exhibit is supposed to correct a number of misconceptions about Vikings, including that they wore horned helmets. That didn't stop them from selling plenty of horned helmets in the gift shop!
I have to be honest that most of the more interesting pieces were just reconstructions, and that really dampened my enthusiasm for the exhibit. There were still some interesting gold trinkets and lots of swords (again somewhat undercutting the general theme of the exhibit that the Norsemen were generally peaceable farmers...).
In contrast, the Guggenheim was quite packed, even though it wasn't the free day. I was there primarily for the László Moholy-Nagy exhibit, which has since moved to the Art Institute of Chicago.
There were several other interesting things on view in the other parts of the Guggenheim, and I found this sculpture/cityscape made from couscous by Kader Attia to be particularly droll.
I may have seen these two (from the permanent collection) previously, but they registered more on this visit.
All in all, it was a lot of art squeezed into a day and a half. While I certainly saw several museums in Chicago, the pace wasn't nearly as frenetic. I had basically planned on taking a cab to LaGuardia for the flight to Chicago, but since I was done with the visit to the Guggenheim almost an hour earlier than I had scheduled for, I decided to take transit out there. I will say that they have made improvements on the express bus to LaGuardia (once you get into Queens), as it used to be a local bus that made all kinds of stops. Unfortunately, that was about the only transit improvement that I experienced, since in general the subway felt very unreliable with poor headways. It's actually at the point (to me) where it feels like the city is just no longer functioning well at all, and I am no longer particularly interested in living there any longer. I suppose this is also a function of how so many of the quirky stores I liked have been lost due to rent increases and a general homogenization of Manhattan (despite the occasional magic moments I referenced above). This falling out of love with NYC would certainly come as a major surprise to my 20-year-old self...
I decided to focus on the Met and the Whitney on Friday, and then to hit the Guggenheim Sat. morning before heading out. This is one of the first times I've skipped MoMA, though we did spend most of a day there back in the spring.
I actually got up fairly early and decided to head to the Cloisters first. I do not routinely go there. In fact, I probably haven't been back in 10 years or so. The museum is fairly timeless, though they had shifted some of the carvings from the basement up to the main floor, but that was about the only change I could recognize.
I tried to be somewhat meditative on the walk through the grounds, and I also stopped and read a bit (Hill's The Book of Negroes).
On the way back, I took a slightly different path and found a huge tunnel I had never seen before, as well as the back of a lodge. I suppose it is true that, if you keep your eyes open, there is always something new, and in this case a bit magical, to uncover in Manhattan.
There wasn't a particular exhibit I wanted to see at the Met, but basically I go on every trip to New York. Many years ago, I used to have a set number of sites I always visited -- the Islamic room with its small fountain, the Chinese courtyard (also name-checked in Lethem's Chronic City), the Frank Lloyd Wright house (in the American Wing) and the Temple of Dundar. In recent visits, I usually skipped one or more of these, either due to time constraints or because they were closed for reconstruction. This time, however, I was able to get to all of them, as well as look at the 20th Century art wing, the Impressionists on the 2nd floor, and I made a quick pass through the American wing as well. It was probably the most thorough visit in years, though there was plenty I skipped of course. I even went up to the rooftop garden and saw this odd piece, which was a barn which had been reconfigured a bit to look like a house from a Hopper painting.
But it was really just the equivalent of a movie prop.
I was quite disappointed that the Beckmann triptych Beginning was not on view, though I did see it back in March. On the other hand, I was a bit surprised that the room with the Thomas Hart Benton murals was still up, but after reading a bit more about the transfer, it sounds like this might become a fairly permanent part of the Modern Wing. It is a bit hard to indicate the scale without seeing it in person.
 |
| Paul Cezanne, Still Life with a Ginger Jar and Eggplants, 1893-94 |
As I mentioned, I spent a bit more time exploring the Asian galleries and the American Wing than I have on the past several trips. So that was a bit of a corrective. I will say I was fairly exhausted by this point, however, and had to convince myself a few times to keep pushing on.
 |
| Samuel Halpert, The Flatiron Building, 1919 |
I did see some fairly amusing sculptures inside the 14th Avenue subway station (en route to the High Line). This is an installation called Life Underground by Matt Otterness. I'd seen parts of it before, but I took a bit more time on this visit.
The next morning I work up fairly early and walked over to Times Square. I had wanted to see the Vikings exhibit at Discovery Times Square on the last trip, but no one was up for it. For quite a while I was the only tourist in the building, and there was only one other family that came to the Viking exhibit, which was in its final weeks. The costumes of Star Wars was doing slightly better business, but it was still too early for most tourists. Anyway, the Vikings exhibit is supposed to correct a number of misconceptions about Vikings, including that they wore horned helmets. That didn't stop them from selling plenty of horned helmets in the gift shop!
I have to be honest that most of the more interesting pieces were just reconstructions, and that really dampened my enthusiasm for the exhibit. There were still some interesting gold trinkets and lots of swords (again somewhat undercutting the general theme of the exhibit that the Norsemen were generally peaceable farmers...).
In contrast, the Guggenheim was quite packed, even though it wasn't the free day. I was there primarily for the László Moholy-Nagy exhibit, which has since moved to the Art Institute of Chicago.
 |
| Moholy-Nagy, Nuclear I, CH, 1945 |
 |
| Moholy-Nagy, Space Modulator CH for R1, 1942 |
There were several other interesting things on view in the other parts of the Guggenheim, and I found this sculpture/cityscape made from couscous by Kader Attia to be particularly droll.
I may have seen these two (from the permanent collection) previously, but they registered more on this visit.
 |
| Gino Severini, Red Cross Train Passing a Village, 1915 |
 |
| Albert Gleizes, Chal Post, 1915 |
All in all, it was a lot of art squeezed into a day and a half. While I certainly saw several museums in Chicago, the pace wasn't nearly as frenetic. I had basically planned on taking a cab to LaGuardia for the flight to Chicago, but since I was done with the visit to the Guggenheim almost an hour earlier than I had scheduled for, I decided to take transit out there. I will say that they have made improvements on the express bus to LaGuardia (once you get into Queens), as it used to be a local bus that made all kinds of stops. Unfortunately, that was about the only transit improvement that I experienced, since in general the subway felt very unreliable with poor headways. It's actually at the point (to me) where it feels like the city is just no longer functioning well at all, and I am no longer particularly interested in living there any longer. I suppose this is also a function of how so many of the quirky stores I liked have been lost due to rent increases and a general homogenization of Manhattan (despite the occasional magic moments I referenced above). This falling out of love with NYC would certainly come as a major surprise to my 20-year-old self...
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