The Art of Talking to Strangers

Yesterday, in a whirlwind rush of put-on-pencil-skirt-find-metrocard-don't-forget-keys-run-to-G-train-oh-crap-I-forgot-my-coffee, I met a kindred soul.

I was standing, or rather fidgeting, for the A train to sweep me off to work, when I noticed out of the corner of my eye, someone staring at me. I readjusted my stance and moved the book I was reading a little to my right so that I could better steal a glance. I turned my head an unnoticeable centimeter and pretend to be enthralled in my Nabokov book (not a hard task). I could not see whether the person was staring at me, or my book, or just drifting off and not focusing on anything in particular. I decide to ruffle through my purse. Click goes the Marc Jacobs button, and I pretend to rummage. As I peer over my bag, I notice she is wearing denim high heels with ties on her shoes. The shoes take a step towards me.

"That's my favorite book," says the women with the shoes. I look up to a woman maybe a few years older than me. She looks kind, and is beaming a smile at me. I can't help but smile back. I look at my book and raise it in agreement. "Anytime I notice someone reading Nabokov on the train, I can't help but talk to them. Anyone who likes Nabokov must be a good person," she continues. I like her instantly, and begin to ramble about the differences in reading Russian authors in their native language versus English. I feel like words are coming out of my mouth and I can't stop them. This person is so friendly and open that I'm caught off guard. We chat for a few more minutes about which books are our favorites until the A comes and we separate in the crowd. I glance over at her a few times, but don't know what else to say beside won't you be my friend? I continue to read my book. As my stop approaches I say a quick "Have a great day" to my stranger a few people away and push through the mass of people towards my transfer train.

As I wait for the F, I think about her. I wish I got her name so we could talk about Nabokov and have her share stories of other readers. Oh well, I think. It just wasn't meant to be.

***

Work was long, dragged-out, and unmemorable. I sit on the F train, swimming through the words in my book and almost forget to get off the train. I notice my stop just in time and run off. I barely make the A that was waiting across the platform. I find a seat and jump back into the pool of Nabokov's early memories. As I learn about Nabokov's over-active ocular sense, I notice those shoes. The little denim heels which approached me this morning. I look up, tired and what probably can best be described as bedraggled (by sweat and exhaustion, and the general unpleasantness of retail). Above me, holding on to the pole is my kindred soul, smiling. "Hello, again!" she says, unsure of whether to talk to me again, the girl who rambles. "Hi! Um, how are you?" I ask. Is that appropriate to say to a stranger? Is she still a stranger? "How do you like the book?" she answers. "I wish I did not have to put it down. What did you think of the part of him as a synesthete?"

We talk some more, and I see that we are pulling up to my stop. I stand up. "I'm Allison, by the way," says my new friend. "I'm Jacquie" I answer. "Well, maybe I'll see you around." I nod and jump off the train. I walk to the stairs and emerge into the waning light of the late afternoon. I smile, thinking that someone out there understands. I think to myself whether I should have gotten her number, or asked to meet up sometime. I wonder if we have anything else in common. I wonder if I should have just told her how much I wanted to be friends with her. I'm sad to think I may never see her again, a kindred soul, but I have faith we may meet again if it is meant to be.

The Unsung Hero

Still Life with Plum Pits, 1932
















The French Window, 1932

When the first day of Spring comes, I feel giddy. My heart is awakened after its long winter nap, and its ready to go play. I get antsy for sun, fresh air, and freedom. Unfortunately, according to AccuWeather, and the general numbness I feel when I step outside, I'm pretty sure the weather is still frigid outside. So if the sun won't come to me, I'll go it. Or, at least to see cheerful Bonnard at the Met.

I like Bonnard because he never comes to mind right away. So when a painting appears by him, or someone mentions him, I'm fondly reminded of the Modernist painter, the quiet hero whose radiating light can still be blinded by the Impressionists.

Bonnard is a painter of joie de vivre. His colors are bright, as if the sun is always shining on his work. Bonnard is a must-see even if your only reason is the need to brighten your spirits.

I think what I love most about his paintings is the fact that they are the perfect size. To view every detail, you must walk up close, as if to hear a secret. They are just the right size that you can hug it and make it yours. You can envelope it and let the colors permeate your skin, veins, heart. Happiness through osmosis, perhaps? But alas, you cannot grab the paintings, in fact, I advise you not to. But as you look at them, your heart will jolt because your eyes are moving so fast around the canvas that you don't know where to look first.

I enjoyed some of his drawings best. "A Table Set for a Meal" from 1935 is just so small and perfect, that it looks like a play set. But don't be deceived. At a closer glance, you will see that it was created by the hand of a master.

Also, don't forget to see his daybooks. If our minds could print their daily activity, they would look like Bonnard's little daybooks.

So if you're feeling the seasonal depression sink in, soak up some Bonnard to last you until spring.

Get Out of Those Museums, Well, Just For a Day.

Adam McCauley, end paper for the gift book, The Monsterologist

Perhaps all this sashaying around museums is getting to you. The large, echoing halls and all the quiet whispering can get a little monotonous sometimes. Maybe you need some new color in your life. Or 16,777,216 new colors, to be exact. So head over to the Society of Illustrators located on 63rd between Park and Lexington and taste some new art fresh from the computer. Perfect for a student's budget (it's free!), the Society of Illustrators offers quickly cycled exhibitions (most don't last more than a few months) so you can keep picking at all the delicious goodies they have to offer.

Currently at the Society of Illustrators is their 51st Annual Exhibition. After holding a contest that was judged by a panel of peer illustrators and art directors, hundreds of entries were chosen to be shown in a three part series. The first part displayed sequential illustrations. Currently up until February 28th is the Book and Editorial exhibit, and following will be CD covers, posters, and greeting cards until the end of March.

If you have the chance, go see both shows! The Book and Editorial show covers everything from children's books to the New York Times. Work references classic novels, current world politics, and the occasional whimsical landscape. It features Sam Weber, Edel Rodriguez, and Jillian Tamaki, to name a few. The exhibition space is highly casual and allows you to spend as much time as you want looking at the pieces. My favorite part was looking at the listed media. Pieces that I swear were silk screened were all done digitally. Other illustrations that looked obviously digital were watercolor and ink. Some were on wood, others printed on nice paper. Some were even delicately drawn in pencil.

So take your time away from the epic frescoes and ancient statues, and stroll over to the Society of Illustrators and see how artists use their computers and knowledge of design to make this world a more beautiful place.

Bon appetit!

Money is Everything

"To the dollar - as we knew it!" by Joseph Mirachi

Money money money! Let’s face it, we are obsessed. Every time I open the New York Times website I am confronted with news stories about Obama’s financial plans. The Economist makes me even more uneasy in my seat with all its talk about the worsening global recession. Everywhere I turn, the media is telling me I should hold on to all my loose change that I scrounge for my daily double espresso. But don’t let me get you down. There are plenty of people who can see the dollar for what it really is: an over-glorified piece of paper. These people that I speak of are George Booth, Lee Lorenz, and Charles Barsotti (to name a few) who’s original New Yorker cartoons about money are being displayed at the Morgan Library and Museum in the exhibition On the Money: Cartoons for the New Yorker from the Melvin R. Seiden Collection.

The exhibition, designed by curator Jennifer Tonkovich and on view until May 24^th, displays about eighty original works by some of the New Yorker’s best cartoonists poking fun at the dollar-obsessed personalities. From the gold-digging woman to the IRS, the show will make you laugh as you realize over and over again that issues of the dollar bill from the early twentieth century still prevail today. The Morgan’s delectable pickings will make you anxious for the next issue of the New Yorker, because I’m sure there are more on the way.

Here’s to the Morgan and America’s 7.6% unemployment rate!

Being an Art Snob, on a Student Budget

I know, I know, it's been a decade or two since my last post, and I understand if you have given up anxiously checking my blog, but I promise that I have something good to share with you that you'll totally be willing to trek out for in this Siberian weather.

It only takes a few thousand dollars and time off from work to go see Signori Botticelli and Alberti at the Uffizi in Florence. But if you are anything like me, a student with a school tuition bill twice as much as what a lawyer makes in a year, then it's time to figure out some other ways of seeing good art without having to break into the money you were planning on saving for groceries.

If you live in New York and have a Metro Card, then I expect a full report of all the wonderful things you see in the coming month after reading this post (Valentine's day is a great time to dazzle your date with divine Donatello).

The cheapest museum year round, and spot that you can visit a dozen times before you finish its works on display is the famous, the fabulous, the forever, Metropolitan Museum of Art. The museum's policy is 'pay what you wish,' in other terms, you can give them the change in your pocket for access to some of the most famous art in the world. Located on 5th Avenue and 82nd Street, the museum's sprawling halls will make you dig out that jar of change you've had in your room since junior high. Can't get enough? Your museum ticket includes same-day admission to the Cloisters, the Met's Medieval collection located uptown. Hop across Central Park and take the A to 190th St. and you find yourself amongst the best collection tapestries and illuminated manuscripts.

Want something a little more contemporary? Perhaps a little more snobby, without the extra admission fee? Saunter into the Museum of Modern Art, located on 53rd Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenues. Recently redesigned, the MoMA will satiate your craving for art since the 19th century. Don't forget to check out their awesome objects collections, filled to the brim with utensils, furniture, and technology of the past and future - a perfect time to take notes for your dream apartment. The best part is, if you are an I.D.-carrying student, it's free all year round. Want to take your freeloading cousin who has been out of a job and crashing on your couch for the past month? Take him out on Friday between 4:00 and 8:00 pm, and you'll both get in for free.

If you want to take in some legendary architecture by Frank Lloyd Wright while being a contemporary art connoisseur, then walk up a few blocks from the Met, and absorb the magnificence of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum. Fridays beginning at 5:45 pm have the same pocket change policy as the Met. Tune into the museum's podcasts for free, or pay $2 for audioguides, and then enjoy swirling around the halls of the Gueggenheim.

Now, let's get a little bit out of the ordinary. Perhaps you'd enjoy a museum with a little less canvas, and a little more computer. Located at 5th Avenue and 92nd St., the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum will open your eyes to art that you may not find in history books. The museum covers product design, graphic design, drawings, prints, and textiles, among other things. If you have $8 to spare, head over before March and you'll catch a show on Chinese housing design, and children's wallpaper design.

Want to know what American arists are up to these days? Check out the Whitney Museum of American Art at Madison and 75th St. 6:00 to 9:00 pm is 'pay what you wish!' If you trek there soon, you'll experience the mobiles of Alexander Calder and photography of the 20th century.

Need more? Want to make this a weekend hobby? Here are some other fabulous museums to check out:

The New Museum
Features the newest of the new. Students are $8, and free if you are under 18. Located on Bowery, between Prince and Rivington Streets.

Neue Galerie
Get in touch with edgy, Germanic art if you are willing to splurge. Located at 5th Avenue and 86th Street, show a student I.D. and get in for $10. Not bad for one of the snobbiest museums (they don't allow children under 12!).

Brooklyn Museum of Art
Get out of the city! Everything is cheaper in Brooklyn, including art! Go see this fabulous collection for 'pay what you wish' pricing. Located at 200 Eastern Parkway.

Stuffy museums not for you? Maybe gallery hopping is the cup of tea you crave. Check out Chelsea, New York's very own delicatessen of contemporary art. Most galleries are free so you can peer into as many as you can handle. Stay tuned next week for a more complete guide to gallery hopping.

Now that you've gotten to the end, don't x out of the browser and check your Facebook account. While the weather is still frightful, go enjoy the art that's so delighful!

Russian Jewish Theater, a Forgotten Art

Today I went to see "Chagall and the Artists of Russian Jewish Theater, 1919 - 1949," being shown at the Jewish Museum. The Jewish Museum is a fascinating, underrated museum devoted to the cultural history of Jews. This exhibit pointed a spotlight on the ephemeral art of theater, and the ever tragic history of Russian Jews.

The Bolshevik revolution brought new found freedoms to Russia, including the freedom of expression. In the early 1920s rose two theater companies: the Habima and the G.O.S.E.T.. The Habima put on productions of Jewish folklore in the ancient language of Hebrew. The GOSET (an acronym for Moscow State Yiddish Theater) was performed in Yiddish, a mix of German and Hebrew that is now considered a dead language.

The strength of the show comes from its wide variety of imagery. Sketches of costumes, stage designs, paintings, and theater posters are combined with photos, film footage, and real costumes to create a vivid image of the radical theatrical genre.

What I found most interesting about the show (and my main reason to encourage you to go see it) is the expressive nature of the designs. If you ever go see a show today, the more popular styles of costume design include realistic interpretations (King Lear, for example in Elizabethan robes) or minimalist design (white tee and jeans a la No Frills Revue). The Habima and GOSET, however, fell in right with the Russian Expressionists. Artists like Marc Chagall, Natan Altman, and Robert Falk provided costume and stage designs. Costume drawings by Altman are edgy, angular, and symbolic. A drawing of a Chasidic boy consists of a jacket with a large, square tiffilin sticking out. Marc Chagall's works are very different. His stage designs are simple, including only the bare minimum clues, but organic: curves, waves, and a lack of right angles are sprinkled on the stage, like his paintings.

Something not to miss is the inconspicuous, but ever ingenious artwork displayed as soon as you walk in the door. Please mind the descriptions and the film clips, but stop stop stop! Don't move on just yet - you've missed the best part! There are three small panels that peer into the room adjacent. While I was there, people were walking past it without realizing what was there. At first, you get a glimpse of Marc Chagall's impressive mural, The Introduction to Jewish Theater. It illustrates people in his idiosyncratic costumes. Like his paintings, people are floating throughout, with little emphasis on a particular setting. When looking closer, you will realize the brilliance of the windows. The Jewish Museum has made a new artwork all its own. The on lookers in the room now become part of the scene too. They join the colorful, comical characters of Chagall's to create a scene of on-looker and actor.

Finally, don't miss the film at the end of the show. A short documentary describes the effects of Solomon Mikhoels' work on Jewish history. His influence on the Russian people's patriotism after Hitler's invasion of the USSR, followed by his assassination by Stalin is one of the many powerful pieces of the show. Unfortunately, like theater, Mikhoel's history to most is evanescent.

I don't want to give away the whole show, but I can honestly say that it's worth seeing. The show paints a picture of Russian Jewish Theater through images, history, and biography. It's one of the most enlightening shows of the year.

First

My first post.

I was planning on saying something that would instantly grab your attention. Words that would reach out and itch your brain, and make your intellect tingle. A quote perhaps? An idea? A proverb that would change your life. I was planning on being the next Edgar Allen Poe with a slightly more non-fictional twist. However, if you are still reading this and wondering what I'm saying, I'll assume I have your attention and continue.

This is a preliminary post. A prelude to a plethora of paragraphs to come. I want to explain to you, dear reader, what I hope to accomplish with this blog.

While my posts may be few and far between (at least not daily), if you are interested in the accessible art in the New York area (and some art that I've seen abroad) than you have come to the right place. The New York Times might have more eloquent, educated, and articulate writers, but I hope to analyze what I see from the perspective of an art historian and not just a fancy writer for NYT. Please check back in a few days as I hunt out some delicious, capricious, and fabulous art for you to see.