NYC Galleries, Day One

November 19th, 2007 § 3 comments

Thursday, Starting at 533 W 26th

1.) James Cohen Gallery, which I did like. They were showing Folkert de Jong, a dutch sculptor who made figurative and political works.

2.) BravinLee Programs, a gallery showing the work of Argentinian artist Fabian Marcaccio. “In a rush to kill painting, they forgot,” the artist said while talking about his work.

3.) Gallerie Lelong showed Kate Shepherd. Her paintings were beautiful, minimal, and delicate.

4.) Lombard-Freid was showing Mounir Fatmi‘s show titled “fuck architects chapter 1” although I am still not sure why. This was a sculptor/installation artist who grew up in Morocco and currently lives in Paris, he seemed to be using “untraditional” materials to make sculptures that deliberately altered the space of the gallery. An interesting text on the wall read “My father has lost all his teeth, now I can bite him.”

5.) Friedrich Petzel had “paintings” by Wade Guyton. His paintings are folded pieces of cloth he runs through a large Epson printer.

6.) 303 Gallery had Thomas Demand.

7.) Perry Rubenstein Gallery had a large sculpture, almost too large for the space, of a recent VCU grad Diana Al-Hadid.

8.) Tonya Bonakdar Gallery was showing Uta Barth, who’s images I really enjoyed.

9.) We ended at David Zwirner showing Thomas Ruff,

New York City (a first visit)

September 1st, 2007 § 3 comments


Getting into the city mid afternoon I decided to take a wander by myself. My destination was that of the Museums but I really had no clear plan of going directly to them, and so I found myself strolling aimlessly through central park. I was struck by how vast, green, and beautiful it was, not the dirty trash filled place I somehow had in my mind. I wondered as I thought these things, why did I have that preconceived notion and where did I get it from? In my rational and thinking mind I have only ever heard good things about New York, and outside from my mothers fear of me not being picked up from the airport, I really had no reason at all to think ill of the city. It is a place surrounded by myth, a place I have heard a lot about in my art classes and from my friends who lived there, but I could not drudge up any real reason why I should, on some level or another, think of central park (using this example in a specific but general way) as a dirty place. It was this contradiction of expectations I hardly even knew I had that took me by surprise, and caused me to enjoy the architecture and neighborhoods perhaps even more than I would have normally.

Doing “things” (sightseeing) seemed obligatory as it was a first visit, but I know that what I will enjoy more in return visits is just walking and looking, taking in finer details each time I go. Caught in conversation with an overly gregarious New Yorker and dragged about to look at some things near our meeting point, I also realized how many stereotypes of character we associate with that place. Jon’s dad’s gestures and voices were mimicked in front of me by this man, as he described personalities of the city. He sounded like a movie character, or at the very least an actor, but acted unabashedly honest and proud of the place he is from. I could never show or speak of LA to a stranger in that way, the best they could get out of me might be “it is kinda fun” as flashes of Annie Hall’s LA scenes play silently in my mind.

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