Day: July 23, 2009

...at Marianne Boesky, a group show curated by Todd Levin. This is just one corner of the largish exhibit (over 70 works). Reminiscent of the "Unmonumental" and "Younger Than Jesus" New Mu house style but more considered and artful placement of works. Most of the artists were transgressive young craft and schlock appropriating Turks of yesteryear (Cady Noland, Leonardo Drew, Joseph Cornell (whoa)) who are now many years older than Jesus (or have passed on). The show really does show the silliness of shows based on age. Anyone can work with these kinds of ideas. Really.

Finally got up on the High Line last evening. These shots, with and without a flash, were at twilight. The High Line is an old elevated rail line that runs from the meat packing district (MePa) north about eight blocks through West Chelsea. The indigenous grasses that used to grow between the railroad tracks have been mimicked by freshly planted indigenous grasses growing among the curved Modernist pseudo rails you see in the photo. You can't tell from these pics but it was party central up there last night: you could barely walk for all the bored West Siders milling around.

Hanging on the wall of the museum: a crudely drawn asterisk covering almost the entirety of a small piece of wood.
The curator stood next to it expectantly, eyes gleaming. "Well?" she said.
"You mean, what is the reference?" asked the museum visitor. "A reproduction of the first star drawn by the young Jackson Pollock, in kindergarten? The pictographic anus drawn by Kurt Vonnegut in Breakfast of Champions to commemorate his turning fifty?"
The curator got that look she got when "revealing" a piece of contemporary art to a plebe, trying not to appear condescending that the visitor didn't "get" what only she could have possibly known. This is what she lived for.
"No, none of those, but good guesses," she said. "In fact, it's a reproduction of the edit lines which cancelled page II-81 in the original manuscript of 'Lamia' by John Keats. The media are pine and India ink."
"Oh, my God. Well, it's very important that I be able to visualize that, it puts me more in touch with the barbaric nature of censorship. Thanks."
Completely missing the visitor's irony, the curator said, "I'm so glad you like it, I think it's an important piece. Don't you want to know what was canceled on that page of Keats' text?"
"Not really, no," said the visitor.

(jpeg of actual pretentious artwork seen on vvork)