A Walk in Chelsea

Yesterday, I found myself reinvigorated around the NY art scene in a way I have not been for a while. I was getting concerned that I could only find the thrill in Joshua Tree these days.....

The afternoon started with a visit to Jack Pierson's studio. Jack is my original connection to the desert, he has a house in Twentynine Palms, as he has been for several other people who have become habitues. We had a good chat about the connections and divisions between NYC and JT, and he made me aware of several artists working in the desert whom I had not met. Future look.

I then set out on a gallery walk which yielded several surprising and inspiring experiences. The most surreal moment was encountering a woman standing inside a piano playing the Fourth Movement of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. From her orientation, she had to play backwards and upside down and she managed this perfectly. Only the notes that corresponded to the strings she as standing in place of were missing. This courtesy of the Gladstone Gallery.



Then there was a sublimely subtle show featuring just two works in the entire Andrea Rosen Gallery space. A faux window by Robert Gober and a pair of mirrors by Felix Gonzalez-Torres faced each other across the expanse of the floor. The effect was one of quiet contemplation, a rare moment for me in the Chelsea buzz.



At the other extreme, I navigated a most comprehensive retrospective of the work of Piero Manzoni which was installed at Gagosian 24th St. I learned a lot about this scion of modern art and marveled at the scale and scholarliness of the exhibition. This was a museum-scale effort and I felt privileged to be able to have this type of experience gratis in NYC.

The nugget in this stop was a sign indicating that there was a show of Hiroshi Sugimoto photography at the Gagosian space on 21st St. I made my way down there to find an astonishing exhibition of contrasts. At first, I saw six large images of the horizon at sea, par for the course at a Sugimoto show. Then the guard actually spoke, a rare enough occurence on the gallery scene, and directed me into a dark room I hadn't noticed. Here there were six more images, extremely dark, in a dark room with the walls painted black. The images floated in a wonderful band of dim dim light and I was transported. Walking back into the white room was an almost blinding experience. This show has rightly been held over for several months.



A block away there was another wonderful contrast in light and color. Robert Irwin's Red Drawing White Drawing Black Painting is an instalation worthy of the Dia heritage that haunts the Pace space on 22nd St. In a typically human moment, I was looking for the blue drawing for a few minutes before I reread the title and saw that this was not another symphony of red, white and blue a la inauguration. The space, light and design of the room combined to another wonderfully transporting effect.



Last on my list of memorably good shows, is one entitled Masculine: Interpretations of Manhood at the Charles Cowle Gallery. Much to ponder about our definitions and roles as well as much to just enjoy ;)

Overall, a very rewarding trip through the galleries and a real appreciation for the gift of art experiences that would not be so easily accessible in another place, where galleries and museums are more distinct. Even in the face of the art market crash in motion, NY's institutions of art commerce continue to provide and provoke even as they continue to promote.