Book man

On Friday, after a late closing, I went to an art auction fundraiser for the next Swimming Cities expedition. I ran into some of the folks who helped build Greenlight, and was able to procure a couple of free tickets to the Armory Show, which ran until this evening.

The exposition was huge, taking place at Pier 94 along the Hudson. The area itself is a bit subway-challenged, but getting there wasn't difficult. I arrived a bit too late to see everything, but I stuck to the Modern Art galleries, which I think are more fun to think about.

If you've grown up with an understanding of religion, it isn't hard to appreciate the driving force behind much Western art. I could spend ages looking at paintings of Maria and her nino, the same basic elements reworked thousands of different ways, brought into the world of artifice by so many consciousnesses.

But when you're at an intimidatingly large art show all by yourself, it is way more fun (and perhaps slightly less pretentious) to peruse a few key booths and wonder not only what gave the artist cause to cast aluminum and steel into a cylindrical shape and varnish it with candy-colored enamel, but how the gallery decided that someone might want to spend $20,000 on a stack of said shapes.
My favorite exhibit was a collection of mens' faces carved out of old Bybels and other black leather-bound books stacked into an appropriate medium.

It was just something to do after a lovely brunch with some lady friends, but any chance I get to pound the pavement down the big blocks in Manhattan, I hop into my comfortable walking shoes and do it. There's an aspect of Manhattan that is hardly appealing--the rampant entitlement to materialism leaves a funny aftertaste (although for parts of Brooklyn to find itself above smacks of hypocrisy). Still, there is a thrill I get from the steel giant, a pulse that is hard to read. I suppose that's what I love most of all, walking out of time with the center of the universe.

70 Million by Hold Your Horses ! from L'Ogre on Vimeo.