Why do most people go to the Met? To see a particular exhibit of course, or perhaps explore their romantic side and view the old steadies. Myself, I go for the best roof action in NYC.
I will go to the roof to grab an over priced martini and sit among the tourists as I look over the landscape of Central park, and all the ‘dripping wet rich’ apartment buildings. It is my escape. The art up there merely serves as my backdrop for outdoor drinking. The installation is quite nice to view, and no, I’m not a total ignoramus. I very much wanted to see this exhibit months in advance, and I did enjoy it. It was an installation of stainless steel branches, titled, Maelstro, by American artist, Roxy Paine.
I took a few snap shots of the long, silver, shiny branches, while overhearing an ignoramus ask, I wonder how they got this up here? I guess he didn’t know that A.) Um, all of the pieces were very visually welded together, and B.) There is thing called d a forklift, and c) A fairly feasible thing to imagine as it is being placed on an open roof. I needed to leave, all the European and country accents and comments were reminding me of why I don’t venture out to the city during weekends and holidays. I headed inside, back down to the exit.
Yes, of course I took in some of the art inside, on the way through towards the exit. And this caught my eye, not the art work itself, the room, the light and how the collection was so immaculately laid out, sort of my Aunt Mary’s humble collection in Northeast Philly apartment.
Ah, art is in the eye of the beholder that is trying frantically to find the way out of the elaborate institution. I had to seize my primary quest to ease my thirst for art, which was to see the Frank Lloyd Wright exhibit at the Guggenheim. (I highly recommend it, but I'm biased, he is one of my favorite wonders.)
This was my day to walk and take part in MY city; I relinquished and was one with the tourists. After all that art and dry martini, I was starved, needless to say I was so absorbed in art viewing I missed the bbq back in Brooklyn. So I succumbed to my ache for a hot dog, and low and behold I had one, and why, because it’s New York. Oh and it being Memorial day, rules went out the window I had to get a chocolate cone with jimmies, yes, Philly folks call sprinkles, jimmies.
Art viewing art.
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