Friday, July 10, 2015

Platinum Records, Polished Silver, and Polident

by Drew Martin
If you are a reader of this blog, you may have come to realize that I like to make bizarre connections between remote entities. This one here is perhaps the greatest stretch: the success of at least three music entertainers and the failed marriage of my aunt in the early 1970s represented here by a silver champagne cup from her wedding in 1969, inscribed with her ex-husband's n

Somehow the pariah's silver cup from the wedding got into my hands since no one else wanted it. I had it out on my art wall for years and then I thought the boyfriend of a coworker (who I hired five years ago) might like it since he is a graphic artist in the music industry.

I brought it inside in its blackened state and made a few attempts to clean it up with household substances: shaving cream, baking soda, and white toothpaste. These things helped but they did not remarkably transform it. But then I tried Polident (for dentures), which my wife had mistakenly bought instead of toothpaste years ago. It was amazing; took the tarnish off immediately.

After cleaning up the cup I hand-drew a diagram, similar to the one here, which shows the connection: My deadbeat uncle abandons his family when my cousins are toddlers. The girl cousin grows up and marries a cop. The boy grows up and befriends Nelly before he goes platinum and helps him get established. Together they start Apple Bottom Jeans, which inspires the hit Low by Flo Rida, featuring T-Pain. This advances Flo Rida's career and thereby puts Ke$ha on the map when she sings backup for his next hit Right Round, the remake of Dead or Alive's You Spin Me Round from 1985.

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Face Time at the Storm King Art Center

by Drew Martin
I visited Storm King Art Center on the Sunday of this past Fourth of July weekend with my wife and youngest son, who just turned eight years old. I have been to this amazing, peaceful place several times before and so I was prepared to write again about what a great location it is to see art; in nature - unbound by the walls of galleries, and too expansive to ever feel crowded. But something peculiar and totally unexpected happened on this trip: I got trapped on a tram (pictured here, top) next to a couple that was making out inches from my face and rubbing up against me, and so my entire experience was adulterated by an excessive amount of PDA. It wasn't sexy or cool. It was awkward for all the families and retired couples on the tour.

My initial reaction was to tell them to get a room, which I didn't. I even envisioned shifting my weight a little on some of the turns so I could watch them tumble off into the nettles. Instead, I decided to document what it is like to look at work by artists such as Mark di Suvero and Alexander Calder with two people sucking on each others' faces, which blocks your view.

We initially walked around the grounds and looked at the temporary exhibit of work by Lynda Benglis but then my son wanted to ride the tram, which loops around the grounds. I would have preferred to walk but it was also fun to have the ride. On one side was my wife and son, and on my other side was an empty seat. Halfway through the ride the tram stopped to let off visitors and pick up the weary. Most groups did not consider the extra seat next to me because they wanted to sit together. But then a young hipster couple ran over to it. The guy threw their two, huge bags of picnic trash on the tram floor and sat down. His girlfriend jumped on his lap and they immediately started making out while leaning up against me. I felt like a loose headboard in an hourly hotel.

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Words and Pictures

by Drew Martin
Yesterday I watched Words and Pictures, a romantic comedy set in a private high school in Maine in which a disheveled, middle-aged English teacher declares war on a demanding, middle-aged Art Honors teacher. Conceptually, the war is between words and pictures, and which has more impact. The battleground is the works of the two teachers and their students but it affects the whole school and it energizes the complacent kids to dig a little deeper in their minds and hearts. Unfortunately, the movie itself doesn't get very far beneath the surface of the topic because it is too general, safe, and obvious. At times it seems like it is trying to be Dead Poets Society; some references are blatant. None-the-less, I thoroughly enjoyed it as a summer watch and appreciated the attempt.

Both of the teachers are past their prime. The English teacher, played by Clive Owen, is a "drunken, art-wrecking bastard" according to the Art Honors teacher, played by Juliette Binoche, who he calls an "ice-cold bitch." His belligerency and inability to write a decent poem again is paired with her disabilities from rheumatoid arthritis.

One nice aspect of the film is that Binoche does more than just dabble at the easel. In one of the more dramatic painting scenes she lays her belly on a swivel chair and paints with the swing of the rotating seat. In another moment she uses a huge brush that hangs from a boom and has a counter weight. The setup is after a painter friend: Fabienne Verdier but all the work in the film is by Binoche.

Monday, June 29, 2015

Embedded Memories at the Hudson Park Branch of the New York Public Library

by Drew Martin
I have a new show up at the New York Public Library from June 29 - July 31, 2015.

Here is my blurb:

Embedded Memories is a show by the artist Drew Martin (b. 1969) about childhood dreams in the most literal sense. The work consists of three 4’x8’ panels of vintage sheets and pillowcases from his childhood with prints of Walt Disney characters, the Peanuts gang, Star Wars, Raggedy Ann and Andy, and the Bernard Kliban tabby cat with red sneakers. 
A fourth panel displays a Thomas the Tank Engine sheet and pillowcase from the early childhood of his own kids.

From a graphics point of view Martin has always appreciated the scale, imagery and daily exposure of these linen prints. Psychologically, he likes how they are part of our culture’s “sweet dreams” send off each night for little kids separated from their families by the dark solitude of the night.

Embedded Memories is Drew Martin’s third show in five years at the Hudson Park branch of the New York Public Library. The first show, TogetherAlone, in 2010, included 40 of his small, black line drawings, some of which were made in the library and referenced the people around him. For the second show, Under the Hood, in 2011, he displayed 250 black and white photographs he took of people who live and work in the neighborhood. The photographs were hung on clotheslines that were stretched across the room.

For this Embedded Memories show Martin first started by thinking about the optimistic energy of the colorful Keith Haring mural just outside the museum above the public pool, and tried to maintain that spirit with these wall hangings.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

Read the Riot Act

by Drew Martin
Yesterday I watched Pussy Riot: A Punk Prayer on Netflix, which focuses on the crash show of the collective punk band Pussy Riot at the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour on the bank of the Moscow River in 2012, in which they shocked the members of the church with their performance and lyrics that included, Shit! Shit! It's God's shit!

This church, in particular, has a lot to be sensitive about. It was built from coins scraped together by peasants in 1812. After the 1917 Bolshevik revolution and their anti-religious policy it fell into disrepair, was defaced and finally it was imploded in 1931. A public swimming pool was built in its place but after the collapse of the Soviet Union the cathedral was rebuilt.

Even though Russia is a secular state, the Christian Orthodox Church has a great pull on many of the citizens and the 
Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, which Putin attends, is criticized by the band as a place where the church and state has been fused together.

So Pussy Riot, which was born out of the disruptive performing arts group Voina (War), saw it as a place fit for their intervention. They barely got started when they were dragged out by security. Three members were caught and charged with hooliganism.

Two of those members, 
Nadezhda "Nadia" Tolokonnikova and Maria "Masha" Alyokhina received two year terms at separate penal colonies. While a third member, Yekaterina "Katia" Samutsevich, was released after seven months, which is when the film is wrapped up.

Tolokonnikova, pictured left (top), kissing the female policewoman below that, nude in the center of the third picture down, on the left in the trial cage, and bottom - left in the still from House of Cards (season 3, episode 3) was the leader of the group, and part of Voina, as was Samutsevich, pictured far right in the trial cage.

Two of the previous performances by Voina covered in the film (to give some background of some of Pussy Riot's key members) were Kissing a Cop, in which women from the group aggressively threw themselves at female Russian policewomen and smooched them. The act, they said was to sexually liberate the militant officers.

The other performance was the flash romp in 2008 where members stripped down and had sex in the Moscow Biological Museum. The eight-month pregnant 
Tolokonnikova participated with her husband and father of that child, Pyotr Verzilov. Verzilov, who speaks English quite well, became an international voice for Pussy Riot while his wife and other members were detained for their trial and eventual imprisonment.

The still from the House of Cards episode here shows 
Tolokonnikova, Verzilov, and Alyokhina, (who is also sitting next to Tolokonnikova in the trial cage). This kind of popular fame seems like a hollow, plastic consolation prize for their original revolutionary cause, and raises the question if the kind of attention they seek is more of a desperate cry to be noticed, especially by Tolokonnikova who grew up in a broken home, than a true protest. Although they took political aim against Putin's totalitarian regime, they ended up as marketing propaganda for Madonna, and a stylized punk-feminist facade.

Watch the trailer:

Tuesday, June 16, 2015


by Drew Martin
I am most proud to be American when I am watching Eurovision, the annual music competition between countries (mainly European) in the European Broadcasting Union. It's always mesmerizing how cheesy it gets, and surprising the larger and richer the country, the worse the entry.

I wrote about 2014 Eurovision last year and a lot has changed since then. Poland, by biggest contrast, rebounded from the most provocative showing last year to something much more tasteful. This year's song In The Name of Love was not very good but it was classy. Monika Kuszyńska belts it out from the floor in a white dress, not because she is that casual: she was paralyzed from the waist down from an automobile accident in 2006.

I seem to have a Slovenian fetish because I keep finding things I love about that culture. I liked this year's pop song Here for You by the husband and wife duo, Maraaya. The name is a truncation of their names 
Marjetka and Aleš "Raay" Vovk. It also means - she has Raaya. Their song is poppy but Marjetka seems to bundle Amy Winehouse and Barbra Streisand with a Slavic twist.

The biggest surprise and hands down the best performance was by the Finnish punk band whose members are either autistic or have Down Syndrome: 
PKN (PERTTI KURIKAN NIMIPÄIVÄT) with their song Aina mun pitää (I always have to...)

Here are the lyrics:

I always have to clean...
I always have to do the dishes
I always have to work
I always have to go to the doctor
I am not allowed to go to the computer
I am not allowed to watch television
I am not allowed to see my friends
I always have to be at home
I always have to do chores
I always have to eat well
I always have to drink well
I can't eat candy, drink soda
I can't even drink alcohol
I always have to rest
I always have to sleep
I always have to wake up
I always have to shower

The fact that they did not qualify for the finals of 2015 Eurovision is totally outrageous.

The winning entry was a safe song by Sweden's Måns Zelmerlöw called Heroes with the main lyric "We are the heroes of our time..." It's typical mindless pop that puts a nail in the coffin of the overuse and misuse of the word hero.

The most disappointing thing about Eurovision is the overall blandness of it, with little effort to take chances. In one way, Eurovision is a guide to Europe (and the other countries that enter the event). I use it to think about which countries I would want to visit/revisit. From this approach I would have written off Sweden (and I have been before) but fortunately some Swedes captured my attention again through the film We Are the Best!, which like PKM, keeps punk alive. From a site about the film:

We Are the Best! is a story of three young misfit girls growing up in the early ‘80s Stockholm. Pixieish, mohawk-sporting Klara and her best friend Bobo are 13-year-old rebels looking for a cause. Despite having no instruments—or discernible musical talent—the two put all their energy into forming an all-girl punk band, recruiting their shy, classical guitar-playing schoolmate Hedwig as a third wheel. With tender affection for its young characters, We Are the Best! paints a joyous and sharply observant portrait of the rebellious spirit of youth and growing up different. 

Watch the 2015 Eurovision song entry recap:

Watch PKM perform I Always Have To with English subtitles:

Have a look at this interview with PKM on Consequence of Sound:

Watch the trailer for We Are the Best!:

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

The Bad Side of Good People and the Good Side of Bad People

by Drew Martin
I watched two documentary films in the past month that explore violence from completely different angles: Dawg Fight by Billy Corben and Into the Abyss by Werner Herzog.

Dawg Fight, which takes place in a poor neighborhood of Miami-Dade County, Florida, harnesses the organized violence of backyard ring, bare-fist fighting as a way out of the random violence of poverty. The star of the film and hero of the community is the hulking Dhafir “Dada 5000” Harris who arranges the events, pep-talks the fighters, and makes sure the fight is fair so that the best man wins.

The other film, Into the Abyss, is less brutal but much more disturbing. Herzog's closeup look at two young Texans in prison for a triple-murder. One of the men is on death row, and executed by the conclusion of the film. Herzog interviews him days before this. He also interviews a partner in crime who is serving a life sentence. As always, Herzog is tasteful and contemplative. You see this with the respect his subjects grant him even though they could rebuff - this is none of your business. 

When I watched both of these films, I thought about the guileless foreigner who would be shocked by the state of the communities and the degree of violence shown in each of these documentaries, but the truth is I cannot think of bigger-picture portrayals of America that could be more honest than the microcosms of these two documentaries.


Full movie;

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Art Everywhere

by Drew Martin
I took a walk at lunch today to check out the bitforms gallery on Allen Street in the Lower East Side. I had seen a picture online of stuffed, robotic penguins being set up for an exhibit and that naturally caught my attention. They are part of Descent with Modification by Daniel Rozin. Here is an extreme truncation of their press release:

The exhibition features six installations that are shaped by Darwin’s breakthrough writings on evolutionary biology, particularly “On The Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection” from 1859. Marked by a new visual emphasis on the mechanism of descent with modification, Rozin’s works are algorithmically based on the randomness of genetic drift.

Central to the exhibit are four software art installations that Rozin developed over a period of five years. In these works, programmed “evolutionary pressure” pushes the artworks to resemble the viewer’s mirrored image.

The largest work in the exhibition, Penguins Mirror is an installation scattered on the floor and comprised of 450 motorized stuffed performs an absurdly homogeneous system of movement...each penguin turns from side to side and responds to the presence of an audience. As they perform, the penguins’ collective intelligence is puzzling, yet somehow familiar, as the plush toys enact a precise choreography rooted in geometry.

PomPom Mirror...features a synchronized array of 928 spherical faux fur puffs. Organized into a three-dimensional grid of beige and black, the sculpture is controlled by hundreds of motors that build silhouettes of viewers using computer-vision. Along its surface, figures appear as fluffy animal-like representations within the picture the motorized composition hums in unified movement, seemingly alive and breathing as a body of its own.

The picture of the book with the butterflies and the eggs is a projected illustration of the Origin of Species, which digitally flips through its pages. This work is certainly an obvious overlapping of science and art, both of which are matters of keen observation. One thing that Darwin's expedition helped establish is that life is everywhere, and it expresses itself in a multitude of possibilities. I think the same can be said for art. On the way to and back from the gallery I was pleasantly overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the Lower East Side, which included this art installation Uplift by Jarrod Beck in the Sara D. Roosevelt Park...

...this dapper dandy hipster in a colorful waxprint suit....

...this swath of fresh concrete (still being worked on at the far end)...

...and a serendipitous visit to this pop-up art space by the Berlin-based Circle Culture Gallery with these leather works by the Austrian conceptual artist Anneliese Schrenk.

Left To Our Own Devices

by Drew Martin
There is a great space on Varick Street a block from my work that I have somehow missed for more than a year. GEARY, which is owned and run by Dolly and Jack Geary is literally a few steps up from neighboring galleries. It is on the corner of Varick and King Street in SoHo, but this former deli space is raised several steps above the hubub without disconnecting you from it. When I noticed GEARY yesterday, I thought it was closed since the lights were not on - the artist on view wants it that way; natural light only.

The current show of David Goodman, Apparatus, is a combination of colorful, shredded paper "paintings", a number of curious wooden objects he calls devices and a backroom projection collage of colors and objects fastened to the wall.

I like most the intimacy of the projection room and the devices. Some of them are constructed to a point of teetering. As a departure from Calder's stabiles (his counterpart to mobiles), these works could be labeled unstabiles

I like how Goodman creates them as apparatuses for connecting one to art. For me they are between a shaman object (without an element of worship) and what Clarke attempts with his monoliths in 2001, which are placed on Earth and beyond to educate/advance apes, then humans to a higher level of being.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

The Blazing Island of White

by Drew Martin
Personally, I love this blog because it is has been my [web]log/diary for the past six years of the movies I have watched, books I have read, and the galleries and museums I have visited.

I often return to it to see what I wrote about something. Although I put it out there, I do not think anyone reads it or cares about it, and that's totally fine for me because more important than having a virtual archive and an audience is that the creation of each post truly makes me think more. Instead of just seeing/experiencing something and moving on, knowing I am going to write about a topic makes me think intensely about it. 

When I first started, I felt a great liberation from what I typically knew of content creation, which was editorial approval and fitting into certain publications at specific times. And unlike the Bill Woodman quote about cartooning and facing the blank sheet of paper as the "blazing island of white" and the panic behind that, the blank screen is more like a feeling of endless possibilities, like having all the stores, laundromats, and libraries in your area switch to a 24-hour schedule.

The one thing I do miss in this blog, is the sense of character development. I mean, there's me writing about all this stuff but I miss the creation of life. I studied biology and art, and I loved how creating cartoon characters was like creating a new organism, and you could define all the governing properties. I drew a lot, and made a lot of characters, some of which can be seen on an old blog of mine with linked sites from it: drewmartincartoons. I somehow pushed all that away and dismissed it as something in my past.

That's why I gravitated to a documentary I watched last night called STRIPPED. From the official website of the film:

STRIPPED  brings together the world’s best cartoonists to talk about the art form they love, and what happens to it as newspapers die. Over 70 interviews were conducted, including the first-ever audio interview with Bill Watterson (Calvin & Hobbes)...

It is actually a really well-done documentary, and it talks about where comics came from and where they are going. 

Watch the trailer to get a sneak peek.

Saturday, May 9, 2015

Michelle Obama on Art: Sorry, No Results

by Drew Martin
For the past two weeks the new Whitney Museum of American Art has been on top of the [art] world, and rightly so; the new space is gorgeous in the amazing building by starchitect Renzo Piano, and their prescient idea to move down to the start of the High Line before it was wildly popular is like a check chess move on MoMA. They even got Michelle Obama to grace the ribbon cutting ceremony. Obama looked fantastic in a beautiful white floral dress and elegantly spoke to the small, proper crowd the Whitney had gathered for the event. 

Politics and the arts are often a bad mix: think Rudolph Giuliani and his attempt to block the Chris Ofili painting at the Brooklyn Museum. Even when politicians have the best intentions they do not get it right. I remember when President Clinton toured a museum and was asked to comment on his favorite work. He said it was a print of Abraham Lincoln because it looked realistic. The politician truest to the arts was Václav Havel (pictured under Obama) who served as president of Czechoslovakia/Czech Republic for ten years. A playwright himself, Havel was immersed in the arts. He went to concerts of all kinds of music, and attended openings of various cultural spaces, no matter how small. He even took off his shirt and danced bare chested with the Aborigines when they invited him to join their ceremony during an official trip to Australia.

I listened to the whole, almost hour-long Whitney dedication (available on YouTube, and the Whitney's site) with speeches from many speakers. I was not expecting any deep comment on art from Obama, but I was surprised that her speech was a little insulting. It all looked great on the surface and received giddy applause but it was off mark. Conservative media jumped all over it, calling it divisive. For the most part they are right.

Obama's speech is also available as a transcript from the White House's website. Here is the section that fueled the backlash:

You see, there are so many kids in this country who look at places like museums and concert halls and other cultural centers and they think to themselves, well, that’s not a place for me, for someone who looks like me, for someone who comes from my neighborhood.  In fact, I guarantee you that right now, there are kids living less than a mile from here who would never in a million years dream that they would be welcome in this museum. And growing up on the South Side of Chicago, I was one of those kids myself.  So I know that feeling of not belonging in a place like this.  And today, as First Lady, I know how that feeling limits the horizons of far too many of our young people. Michelle Obama

I was surprised by this because New York cultural institutions do a fantastic job getting everyone in to see their collections and experience performances, and museums either have suggested donations or a free day. It sounded more like a personal/parenting issue than a fault of museums. The other thing is that Obama has a law degree so she should know that cultural institutions in the United States are typically set up as 501c3 not-for-profit educational institutions. This means that the underlying purpose of a museum with this status is for educational outreach. 
At the Whitney, anyone under 18 has free admittance all the time, and that includes access to educational programs and tours.

I also thought that maybe Obama was simply not comfortable talking about art. In my mind an artist has a greater influence and cultural power than a president but she ranks them, and trumps the artist. Toward the end of her speech she says,

One visit, one performance, one touch, and who knows how you could spark a child’s imagination. As the Mayor said, maybe you could inspire a young person to rise above the circumstances of their life and reach for something better.  Maybe you could discover the next Carmen Herrera or Archibald Motley or Edward Hopper... 
(then she laughs to herself and continues) or, yes, maybe even the next Barack Obama. 

This has such a weird tone to it, like much of her speech, which has a few back-handed compliments. Play that last comment back with...Pablo Picasso or yes, maybe even the next G.W. Bush...or...Georgia O'Keeffe or yes, maybe even the next Jimmy Carter to see the disconnect of her remark from another angle.

Pictured below Havel, in order of her listing, are the artists she references. It has been said that Hopper is the "Whitney's Picasso." In fact, when I just searched the Whitney's collection on their site, I found they own 3,154 works by Hopper. They only have one work in their collection by Carmen Herrera (detailed here, Blanco y Verde), and when I searched for Archibald Motley 
I got "Sorry, No Results." Despite this, the Whitney is planning a show from October 2, 2015- January 17, 2016 - Archibald Motley: Jazz Age Modernist.

Friday, May 8, 2015

Red Alert and a Blue Room on Greene Street

by Drew Martin
I stopped by the Artists Space on Greene Street today at lunchtime (there is also an Artists Space on Walker Street, which I have not been to yet). It's up on the third floor of an average building with a nondescript entrance. The modest ante-gallery with a glowing Red Alert (three Apple monitors turned portrait, with orangey-red screens) leads into a huge space dimly lit with a deep blue light. In the center of the room is a rear projection screen that you first approach as a flipped image but when you move around it you see a skaters' quarter pipe set up with huge throw pillows so you can chill out and watched Liquidity, Inc. The most intriguing piece in the gallery is Guards, which is a video projection that includes former guards/cops who explain and show how they would enter and secure spaces with their handguns in preparation to confront an armed suspect. In the video they are plain clothed, and they point their hands as guns. The twist is that they perform their maneuvers in the brightly lit galleries of the Art Institute of Chicago. Pretty brilliant.

Grizzly Man

by Drew Martin
The documentary films of Werner Herzog are not simply the products of good directing and editing. They are experiences in which he shares his deep contemplation with you. He doesn't just take you places; he makes you think very differently about a subject. With his lens he is an experienced traveler, not a naive tourist.

Grizzly Man is a 2005 documentary by Herzog about the annual expeditions that Timothy Treadwell made to Alaska to commune with wild grizzly bears. His extended 13th trip had a fatal ending. He and his girlfriend Amie Huguenard (pictured together 2nd from top) were eaten by a grizzly bear who lingered through late autumn in a last ditch effort to fatten up before winter hibernation. When the park rangers eventually shot and inspected the predator's innards, it had enough human remains to fill four garbage bags.

This documentary is a mix of Treadwell's recordings (from more than a hundred hours of footage) and interviews by Herzog with various people including Treadwell's parents, the bush pilot who shuttled him to his remote locations and discovered his remains, the coroner who did an autopsy on the what was left his body, and two woman with whom he was very close: an ex-girlfriend, and a platonic lady friend with whom he stayed before each expedition.

A young native Alutiiq from Kodiak Island speaks about Treadwell crossing the boundary that his people respected for "seven thousand" years. 

A helicopter pilot called in to clean up the remains of the attack and slaughter of the bear offered that Treadwell had not been eaten sooner simply because (just as a hunter would not bag rabid game) the bears probably saw him as a deranged creature.

Although Treadwell was empathetic and sincere about his love for bears, it was at the expense human relationships. Even Herzog is critical of Treadwell's delusion by painting a harsher picture of nature than Treadwell's bear utopia. At the same time, his film honors Treadwell and respects what he accomplished as someone trying to get closer to nature and as a filmmaker in his own right. 

Herzog seems delighted by Treadwell's companionship with wild foxes, who tag along on his adventures for his kids-show-style narrative complete with a silly voice. This, however, is tarnished by an occasional F-U paranoid rant and an equally caustic and crazy-talk desperate chase to get his favorite cap back from a young fox who runs off with it.

Halfway through the documentary I felt as if any other filmmaker would have already exhausted the topic and sensationalized the events but this is where the genius of Herzog kicks in and is able to carry the film to feature length.

What I like about his filming style is that he keeps the camera rolling after an interviewee has said his or her last word. It is when you see a person retract to a less animated state and you notice that even honest conversation is a form of acting.

I do not know if Herzog understands this but his commitment to this film pays more respect to his subject than any of the scenarios Treadwell could have envisioned to spring from his death.

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

The Whitney Has Landed

by Drew Martin
When I went to the opening of the new Whitney Museum of American Art last Friday with a couple friends/art lovers, it felt as if an advanced alien culture had landed and invited us aboard its spaceship. Although we could not see or touch them, they communicated with us through art.

I returned to the Whitney today to become a member and spent some time walking the gallery floors by myself, taking in the things I missed during the euphoric hubbub of day one. I like to take pictures of details of artwork, and today I understood a bit more why. We view paintings and sculptures as a whole object, and even though we understand the components of a work, we seldom isolate a particular section to comprehend how that makes us feel and what we get out of it. So here are some snapshots of works and a lot of closeups without any need to identify the artist or title of the piece.