Early this week it was reported that famed piano and sing along bar Rose's Turn will be closing its doors forever. All the gay musical men and loud mouth musical girls let out billowing cries of disbelief knowing they could no longer scream along to songs by the piano while getting drunk. It is a sad day when the happiness of a marginalized group is brought to an end by Real Estate, yet again, in this city.
If you had never been to Rose's Turn you missed a treat. I mean that in the most sincere and honest way possible. I am not a piano bar/ sing along kind of guy but I do of course have a story about my own trip to a place I swore I would never go in. I dreaded the idea of a hot bar filled with large clouds of smelly exhaled breath from people singing while downing drinks. To me, people singing along to a piano was worse than Karaoke. A live instrument instead of some cheesy synth back up seems to make people think they can sing, and sing well.
One cold and rainy night I was scheduled to meet up with a group of misfit former musical theater people and a musical composer for dinner and drinks. We chose a campy and ridiculous spot in the Village known for its sausage and schnitzel called Lederhosen. I of course was there early and had to sit at the bar and make obvious gestures that I was waiting for someone lest some stranger think I am a loser (you know the audible sigh and looking at the watch as you drink your second giant beer). Finally when all the late comers arrived we were sat in the back room at a picnic table surrounded by a mountain mural on the wall. The place reminded me of some cafeteria at a YMCA camp or basement of an elementary school. The food was OK, expensive and while fun for a one time deal, not worth it. The beer however, completely worth every last drop.
We payed our check after some rowdy raunchy conversations and of course no one wanted to go home. Our next thought was "where can we go that is not far where we can drink cheap drinks as we just spent all our dough on sausages". My friend Métier lit up and snapped his fingers "I know a place, my friend is working, we can get discounted drinks, maybe even a few rounds for free!" Then he waited for all to agree.
*Note- Métier likes all things campy and ridiculous, I mean two of the guys favorite movies are "The Apple" and "Xanadu". Mike had also been trying to convince us to go to Jekyll and Hide just for shits and giggles- neither of which interested us.
"NOT JEKYLL AND HYDE " we shouted in unison. He looked wounded.
'No no, I know no one wants to go there, just trust me" he replied
Now the thing with Métier is when he doesn't tell you what the place is right off the bat you need to be careful. My best friend, who was with me, and I have known him for years and not telling you a location is sort of his ruse to get you to go somewhere he knows you won't agree to if you hear it ahead of time. She and I looked at each other quickly and almost simultaneously said "Where Métier" in that "OK what is it NOW" way.
"ROSE'S TURN!" he gleamed.
Shit, shit SHIT. A piano bar. A piano bar I vowed never to go into every time I passed it and saw the head shots in the display case. I am not sure why I make stupid "vows" on such dumb things like bars and restaurants and then feel some sort of moral high ground because I VOWED not to go in- but I do it and always end up breaking it. What sort of self respecting gay man would VOW not to go into a piano bar and sing loudly and drunk... ugh- me.
My best friend looked at me and saw my terror.
"Hey we can make fun of people..." in her best tempting the devil voice.
I looked into her eyes for a moment, turned away then after a moment blurted out-
"Hell free drinks- lets do it Métier."
Métier did his happy nervous jump, turn, snap and lead the way to the mischief.
We went through the door and down the three steps as he hollered out to his friend working as a cocktail waitress. It was still quiet in the bar as the singing had not begun yet. The place was dimly lit with a red light dive bar aura about it.The familiar smell of bar rot filled the air. There was a microphone stand and an upright piano in front of a fish tank. In my memory its a fish tank, it totally could have been a wall of "queers" or something for all I know, I was tipsy. I let out a sigh as I sat down, rolled my eyes (nervous habit) and then smiled. Smiling helps when you are scared and nervous- just like whistling (I was Louis in "The King and I" when I was 8 what can I say).
We all ordered our stiff drinks. Métier was beaming, Best Friend and I were chatty, our third misfit, Composer was texting a hook up / former fling and getting ready to jet. The service was good and I must say the people in the bar were extremely friendly, especially the staff. I was starting to ease up and my tensed ass had just relaxed when suddenly there was a tinkle on the key board.
"Ladies and Gentleman, thank you for coming out this evening, my name is Joe and I will be playing for you all... if you have any requests let me know and if I don't know it, I will certainly try and fake it..." he played a few scales and flourishes then moved his mouth closer to the piano microphone so you could hear his giant inhale and out with "It's nine o'clock on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffles in ... hey Nancy!..." He waved to a big man that walked into the bar. Fear washed over me and my ass tightened again.
I began to panic and looked over at Métier happily chatting with Best Friend, Composer was texting furiously and I had no choice left but to watch this man sing... singing a song...sing oh so seductively... heavily breathing in the mic... looking playfully my way- wait- was he actually cute? Huh, he wasn't bad. His voice was actually kind of good. Hang on hang on.... I was actually beginning to enjoy this.
OK this is after I downed my drink, blushed and promptly ordered another but it was a feeling of joy nonetheless.
The piano man sang a few more songs and picked up the mood with some up beat pop songs. More people began to pile in ranging from flaming queens to tourists and even business men with their arm candy they wanted to seduce. An affable mood was developing in the bar and the place felt like it had a growing "glow". I had about 4 vodka sodas at this point that were mostly vodka so that could have been it too- I of course did not care. I did however need to switch back to beer.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a woman sitting at the bar who seemed very anxious and nervous. I thought perhaps she was a patron like me, lured in by free drinks but terrified of public singing. She had dark short hair hidden underneath a scarf, a septum piercing, sleeveless shirt and cargo pants. A nervous lesbian. She looked around and around at all the people, darting her eyes back and forth. The piano man began to wind down his first set and paused to sip some water. She suddenly got up and approached the mic stand. She leaned over and spoke with the piano man then readjusted her position to one of confidence in front of the crowd.
"Hello" - feedback of course rang through the audience adding to the nerves.
"I just wanted to sing this song for you all, I hope you like it". Her voice quivered. Composer friend chose this moment to get up and leave to meet his sex ex and try and get some. We all said goodbye drunkenly quiet (which everyone knows is loud like a stage whisper). Once he had left and the commotion settled the woman took a deep breath and the piano began.
Now I was pretty drunk at this point so I do not remember what song she sang. I do remember thinking "OF COURSE SHE SANG THAT" which makes me think it was Melissa Ethridge's "I'm the only one" or a K.D. Lang song- but as you know I believe there was a fish tank in the bar too. After the first few painful notes she suddenly loosened up and was actually, dare I say it- GOOD.
Oh my god- I liked this. I, the man who vowed to not have fun in a sing along bar was liking it. I was enjoying the performance from this butch woman who stepped out of her comfort zone and belted a song out with true passion. It was sort of moving, in the way that you find things moving when you are drunk.
After the woman finished the crowd cheered and I let out a big roller coaster style "Weeeeehooooooooooooo!". She looked my way and smiled then went back to the bar to resume her nervous drinking.
This is where the evening became hazy, foggy and amazingly fun. I was being given free drinks, allowed to yell and sing as much as I wanted and no one batted an eyelash. Song after song was being played as waiters came up and did their thing, pointed to the audience for the chorus etc. I started out shyly blurting lyrics here and there too embarrassed to let loose at first. I slowly built up my courage and came up to full musical theater crescendo, singing with all my might by the sixth or seventh song- proud and ashamed that I knew the lyrics to most of the crap being played.
The Climax to the whole affair came when "Total Eclipse of the Heart" began on the piano and our waitress, Métier's friend stepped up to the mic. Silence and goosebumps filled the air as the raspy sorority girls behind us blurted out "I love this song!". It started out as a solo then the audience filled in the duet part. Next thing I know Best Friend, Métier and I were shouting the chorus at the top of our lungs laughing so hard that were were red and out of breath. By the end the whole place was alive with shouts, hoots, laughing and singing as everyone declared
"I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight"
Then we all warbled down to the serious part slurring around
"Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart"
I had a lump in my throat, a stain on my lap (from my spilt drink) and a tear in my eye. It was beautiful.
We decided that it was time to go when each one of us needed "fresh air". We payed our very low tab, told the waitress she ruled, said goodbye to all the fresh non-drunk faces around us and stumbled up the stairs and out the door into the cool night air. As we walked down the block we all had the look of "One more... come on guys lets go for one more". Métier, embolden with liquor slurred out "no no , I have a real treat jussssshhhh follow me." We walked down the block tripped down some stairs and opened a door to another bar.
Our nostrils were hit with the distinct smell of testosterone, sweaty crotch and urinal cake. We pushed through a crowd and suddenly I heard a familiar tune on the piano. We had stumbled into the all musical theater sing along bar "Marie's Crisis Cafe". There in front of us were tons and tons of gay men singing along to the Guys and Dolls favorite "Sit Down You're Rocking the Boat". The image of twinkle eyed gay men singing to each other in an exaggerated musical theater fashion as if actually in the freaking show is burned into my head. It was just too much. Sing along to a variety of songs was one thing- but to Musicals only- Best Friend and I looked at each other in horror- not for us at ALL. (The place was packed so certainly gay men of that persuasion LOVE the place- and there is NOTHING wrong with that- just not our bag).
We looked at Métier who was swaying and hiccuping and said "We gotta get out of here" and hurried up the steps. We hopped into a cab dragging poor Métier back to Brooklyn with us so he wouldn't have to trek to the Upper West Side reeking of booze as he slid into bed with his sober boyfriend- again. We laughed like crazy in the cab, sang a little, recapped and fell out onto the streets of Sunset Park Brooklyn. Best Friend was kind enough to host our rowdy asses and smoke us out as we talked until 3am. Everyone agreed- killer time.
When I learned of Rose's Turn closing I was actually kind of sad... for a second. I had a blast there that one time. I am glad I did it. I am glad that I got to go to yet another New York landmark place before it was closed or changed for good (just like the time I bought weed with Best Friend in Washington Square park from the same guy who sold weed to the kids in KIDS the movie- and just like the movie it was that "sticks and pebbles crap"--this of course was in the mid 90's before they cleaned up the park and made it boring so old farts would feel comfortable.)
It saddens me that gay men, lesbians, lecherous men and their dates, tourists and anyone of the like will no longer have a piano bar to get drunk, shout out their feelings in the form of a pop song and feel deeply connected to total strangers.
Goodbye Rose's Turn...
Friday, July 20, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
"True"
Normally I like to use my blog to tell stories or something of the like. I try and refrain from bitching too much because I do that enough in my daily life and writing it down just gives me a complex. Sure my first posts were on those bitching-esq topics but then I found my footing and began to write less and less about the daily monotony of working in an office, New York City subway rides and instead decided to expose my most embarrassing or telling stories.
Therefore I will TRY and keep this brief. (after reviewing it, I realize I failed on that count so just sit back and hopefully enjoy)
What the HELL is up with that freaking site "True"? Whenever I log into my myspace (I know... myspace, the passive aggressive way people keep in contact with former or distant friends that are to lazy to even email. Through the magic of sites like friendster and myspace you can learn all you need to know without ever having to talk to them- just keep dibs on them .)
Anyway whenever I log onto myspace I am greeted by an advert for "True" featuring two buff shirtless men holding each other looking as happy as can be with "Live, Love, Learn" or " Romance is just a click away" written in bold underneath.What the hell kind of slogan is that!? Live, Love, Learn? If it were that easy wouldn't we all be walking around in a wonderful sex filled bliss?
If its not "True"reminding me that I need to live love and learn its fucking "Gay.com". Usually the ad features some shaven buff guy all wet coming out of a pool looking sexy/pissed at the camera asking me if I have "given Gay.com a try". Um yes and my profile was deleted for some unknown reason and all anyone wanted on there was sex. Not that there is anything wrong with that- just don't market yourself as a dating site when you are indeed nothing of the sort- just a hook up site with some queercentric "news" articles.
Which of course leads me to the OTHER site I get advertised on myspace all the time. Manhunt. There coyly posed in front of me after I log in is this beefy, large pectoral man with a square jaw line and perfectly manicured chest hair telling me to "go online and get off". While I appreciate the straightforwardness of the whole thing I know that the same guy does not exist on this site. If he does it is in headless torso form. This headless torso that looks great soon turns into a monster when that same picture is "unlocked" to see the guys face. Its always a gamble and you run the risk of either turning to stone or the guy is 50.
My favorite advert to groan at after I log in or out is the Dr. Phil endorsed "Match.com" telling me "It's okay to look" while a seemingly live video loops of some guy with his shirt unbuttoned looking at the camera and trying to figure something out. Now this is somewhat true - there are some cute guys on web cams however they are all in Europe or nowhere near you to actually meet. Then there is always the point in which the conversation disintegrates to sex talk and he is stripping. Then you are stripping. Then you feel weird and isolated like you are in some bizzaro version of Logan's Run calling up a sex partner but they never "materialize" before you for actual contact. You just have to please yourself and watch someone else do the same. Oh and you don't meet those guys on Match.com, never.
In case you haven't noticed- I have tired online dating, quite a bit in fact. I don't go to gay bars very often because they make me feel like I am in a living version of online dating but heightened and with bad music. When I moved to New York City I gave on line shit a shot. I have done almost every kind of site from hook up sites to genuine dating sites (where gay men create a ruse of wanting a date when really they want to hook up - ANNOYING! If I wanted to spend money for sex I would buy a hot hooker instead of a shitty dinner with bad conversation and an awkward make out session to follow.) There are a few things I have learned from these trials and tribulations which go against all the damn slogans they tout like facts.
1. It is not OK to look- people have profile trackers. If you stumble across someone who looks good in a thumbnail then click to enlarge and think OH JESUS! YUCK! they know it.
2. Crazy people are on there. Sure I was on there, but I am not a crazy person hiding behind the guise of sanity- I admit I am a little crazy, sometimes shit house crazy. I think its part of my charm... yeah that's it my charm... right?
3. If someone doesn't appear crazy at first, give it some time- the crazy will come out and hit you faster than you can say "Check Please". I can not begin to tell you how many dates I went on where they started normal and then somewhere between the second drink and the abrupt end the person came loose. One instance a man cried and told me how lonely he was as he grabbed my knee and begged me to keep him company. I felt bad but JESUS it was a first meeting! I never called him or spoke to him again.
4. Almost NO ONE looks like their picture. The rule of online pictures - if there is more than one pick the UGLIEST one, and think to yourself "That's what they look like". When you finally meet them you will either be right or pleasantly surprised. If they are shirtless, you can almost bet that picture was taken after a few months of starvation so they could sit on the beach and feel better about themselves and have a good "on line" pic. Sometimes and I repeat again- ONLY SOMETIMES the pictures are accurate. When that happens its great, you met an honest person, you are off to a good start however, see 2 and 3.
5. The same 20 people you are going to be interested in are the same 20 people on every dating site. Period. -- Again, look at me, I tired them all---
It pisses me off that I have to look at that blatant false advertising everyday that I log into my shitty myspace page to see if any half ass friends have talked to me or anyone has returned my half ass messages out of boredom or worse- maybe some stranger liked my profile and wrote to me (myspace and friendster are the single person's safe haven, people can claim they never have done online dating but if you have a myspace page or friendster page and declare yourself single- you have done online dating. Its true- end of story- don't deny it).
Sure we all know the few success stories for online dating. Perhaps it is a hetero thing- perhaps not- perhaps I am jaded about the whole thing, I don't care. I am tired of being told I can meet a sexy, sane guy by sitting in front of the computer when it is just not true. Now if they showed a bloated guy with thinning hair, and the slogan was
"Lower your expectations lazy ass, after all you are sitting in front of your computer eating ice cream in your underwear."
Then I might believe it and not be so mad.
Therefore I will TRY and keep this brief. (after reviewing it, I realize I failed on that count so just sit back and hopefully enjoy)
What the HELL is up with that freaking site "True"? Whenever I log into my myspace (I know... myspace, the passive aggressive way people keep in contact with former or distant friends that are to lazy to even email. Through the magic of sites like friendster and myspace you can learn all you need to know without ever having to talk to them- just keep dibs on them .)
Anyway whenever I log onto myspace I am greeted by an advert for "True" featuring two buff shirtless men holding each other looking as happy as can be with "Live, Love, Learn" or " Romance is just a click away" written in bold underneath.What the hell kind of slogan is that!? Live, Love, Learn? If it were that easy wouldn't we all be walking around in a wonderful sex filled bliss?
If its not "True"reminding me that I need to live love and learn its fucking "Gay.com". Usually the ad features some shaven buff guy all wet coming out of a pool looking sexy/pissed at the camera asking me if I have "given Gay.com a try". Um yes and my profile was deleted for some unknown reason and all anyone wanted on there was sex. Not that there is anything wrong with that- just don't market yourself as a dating site when you are indeed nothing of the sort- just a hook up site with some queercentric "news" articles.
Which of course leads me to the OTHER site I get advertised on myspace all the time. Manhunt. There coyly posed in front of me after I log in is this beefy, large pectoral man with a square jaw line and perfectly manicured chest hair telling me to "go online and get off". While I appreciate the straightforwardness of the whole thing I know that the same guy does not exist on this site. If he does it is in headless torso form. This headless torso that looks great soon turns into a monster when that same picture is "unlocked" to see the guys face. Its always a gamble and you run the risk of either turning to stone or the guy is 50.
My favorite advert to groan at after I log in or out is the Dr. Phil endorsed "Match.com" telling me "It's okay to look" while a seemingly live video loops of some guy with his shirt unbuttoned looking at the camera and trying to figure something out. Now this is somewhat true - there are some cute guys on web cams however they are all in Europe or nowhere near you to actually meet. Then there is always the point in which the conversation disintegrates to sex talk and he is stripping. Then you are stripping. Then you feel weird and isolated like you are in some bizzaro version of Logan's Run calling up a sex partner but they never "materialize" before you for actual contact. You just have to please yourself and watch someone else do the same. Oh and you don't meet those guys on Match.com, never.
In case you haven't noticed- I have tired online dating, quite a bit in fact. I don't go to gay bars very often because they make me feel like I am in a living version of online dating but heightened and with bad music. When I moved to New York City I gave on line shit a shot. I have done almost every kind of site from hook up sites to genuine dating sites (where gay men create a ruse of wanting a date when really they want to hook up - ANNOYING! If I wanted to spend money for sex I would buy a hot hooker instead of a shitty dinner with bad conversation and an awkward make out session to follow.) There are a few things I have learned from these trials and tribulations which go against all the damn slogans they tout like facts.
1. It is not OK to look- people have profile trackers. If you stumble across someone who looks good in a thumbnail then click to enlarge and think OH JESUS! YUCK! they know it.
2. Crazy people are on there. Sure I was on there, but I am not a crazy person hiding behind the guise of sanity- I admit I am a little crazy, sometimes shit house crazy. I think its part of my charm... yeah that's it my charm... right?
3. If someone doesn't appear crazy at first, give it some time- the crazy will come out and hit you faster than you can say "Check Please". I can not begin to tell you how many dates I went on where they started normal and then somewhere between the second drink and the abrupt end the person came loose. One instance a man cried and told me how lonely he was as he grabbed my knee and begged me to keep him company. I felt bad but JESUS it was a first meeting! I never called him or spoke to him again.
4. Almost NO ONE looks like their picture. The rule of online pictures - if there is more than one pick the UGLIEST one, and think to yourself "That's what they look like". When you finally meet them you will either be right or pleasantly surprised. If they are shirtless, you can almost bet that picture was taken after a few months of starvation so they could sit on the beach and feel better about themselves and have a good "on line" pic. Sometimes and I repeat again- ONLY SOMETIMES the pictures are accurate. When that happens its great, you met an honest person, you are off to a good start however, see 2 and 3.
5. The same 20 people you are going to be interested in are the same 20 people on every dating site. Period. -- Again, look at me, I tired them all---
It pisses me off that I have to look at that blatant false advertising everyday that I log into my shitty myspace page to see if any half ass friends have talked to me or anyone has returned my half ass messages out of boredom or worse- maybe some stranger liked my profile and wrote to me (myspace and friendster are the single person's safe haven, people can claim they never have done online dating but if you have a myspace page or friendster page and declare yourself single- you have done online dating. Its true- end of story- don't deny it).
Sure we all know the few success stories for online dating. Perhaps it is a hetero thing- perhaps not- perhaps I am jaded about the whole thing, I don't care. I am tired of being told I can meet a sexy, sane guy by sitting in front of the computer when it is just not true. Now if they showed a bloated guy with thinning hair, and the slogan was
"Lower your expectations lazy ass, after all you are sitting in front of your computer eating ice cream in your underwear."
Then I might believe it and not be so mad.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Big Steel
Richard Serra, a minimalist sculptor, is currently having a show of his work at the MOMA. It is really an amazing show. Sure some of you may be thinking "wow... big sheets of rusting metal... great" but seriously, it is so much more than that. The massive sculptures are really an amazing site to see in person- sure you can look at pictures and think "Woah that is huge"- but to walk through and around them is a whole other feeling.
Yesterday I ventured out of my hermit world into the light to meet my best pal and head to the MOMA to see the show we had been talking about seeing for weeks. We had seen Serra's work together years ago at Gagosian before it was really "Gagosian" as she likes to point out (meaning it wasn't so polished and divided- I also saw a Damian Hirst show there before the space was really established. The show was awesome, it had the sliced cow, sorry to demean the art like that but really, that's what people know it as). At the time of the Serra show I was not very into abstract sculpture, in fact I am still not someone who longs to look at abstract sculpture or seeks it out- however, Serra's work is different.
Perhaps it is indeed the grand scale, the massive plates of metal twisted to look so malleable yet hard as rocks or the precarious way in which they stand that draws me in however I can honestly say I really am a fan of his work. While walking around and through his pieces Sequence, Band and Torqued Torus Inversion there is this disarming energy, I felt as though I had no balance and almost dizzy. While inside one of his shapes surrounded by metal that looks as though any moment it may come crashing down I had this intense feeling I can only describe as "ass tingle" - crude, I know, its the same feeling I get when I am up high and there is no railing and I look over an edge ( The first time I got this feeling from art was at a Bill Viola show at the old ICA in Boston- it was then that I decided video would be my medium of choice). The feeling inside a Serra shape for me is excitement and fear with a dash of disturbing serenity - a vortex of confusion if you will...with ass tingles. However this feeling is also unique for each individual and some may not feel anything at all and just be starring at the water stains running down the seem of the curved wall- which is all good if you ask me.
If you take the time to appreciate the rusted beauty of the finish, the curves, the scale, the gouged out spots that make it appear to be clay, if you look at it from different angles, walk around, just absorb- you will not be disappointed. I found many amazing views through openings that created abstract landscapes for one to admire, or even what I like to call "sets" and enjoyed finding new ways to look at the work. There are also smaller works of his on the sixth floor that prove even without the grand scale his work is powerful, transforming and transcending materials to raise questions in one's mind. Often times when people see things like this (or art in general) they are looking to be "DONE"- They walk in and expect something amazing to happen and when it doesn't they think they either don't "get it" or it's "stupid". I know because I used to be one of those people. I learned that just by looking at something and being open to it I can enjoy it far more than if I am looking for "meaning" thus frustrating myself when I don't "get it".
It seems lately in the New York art scene "idea and person" has eclipsed skill and craft thus intimidating some people into thinking they are not capable of understanding art. I find that very unfortunate. While I am one who knows and respects ideas I also find this disheartening at times for many reasons but one in particular is that some artist now hide behind ideas and use that as an excuse for poorly crafted art (yes some people do the opposite by hiding behind skill with no idea- the key is a balance). In my opinion the self importance of the artist is what keeps the general public from wanting to be a part of it. That behaviour begs the questions- is one making art for art sake, for artists only, for the select few- or is one making art as an expression of self, for the masses, even just FOR oneself? I do not know the answers to any of these questions and once again it is a personal question for each artist.
There is one thing I do know- once art is made and on view it is open to interpretation in as many ways as the human mind can go and there is nothing wrong with that. An artist may be frustrated because you do not see what they intended you to see however a good artist (once again, in my opinion) is open to new ideas and welcomes the new views on something they have made (I mean who the heck doesn't like to talk about themselves or something they made).
Serra's work is open for interpretation , he may in fact find it disgusting that I do not see some ideas embedded deep withing the spiraling sheets of steel or that maybe I even missed his point all together. I honestly don't care- sure I would love to hear what he had to say, but for me my reaction and my interpretation was all I needed. I read the essays provided by the museum (I always do) however it did nothing to increase my enjoyment of the work- it did inform me as to a historical time line and what the museum sees in the work, however once again, I enjoyed it on my own level. This work ultimately reminded me of why I love art- and that is something I have not felt in a long time. So please, go to the museum's this summer, enjoy the air conditioning and fuck all the "arty" people- just go and look at something nice and enjoy it on any level you can. If you don't enjoy it- hey no love lost at all but at least you stayed cool while you tried.
Yesterday I ventured out of my hermit world into the light to meet my best pal and head to the MOMA to see the show we had been talking about seeing for weeks. We had seen Serra's work together years ago at Gagosian before it was really "Gagosian" as she likes to point out (meaning it wasn't so polished and divided- I also saw a Damian Hirst show there before the space was really established. The show was awesome, it had the sliced cow, sorry to demean the art like that but really, that's what people know it as). At the time of the Serra show I was not very into abstract sculpture, in fact I am still not someone who longs to look at abstract sculpture or seeks it out- however, Serra's work is different.
Perhaps it is indeed the grand scale, the massive plates of metal twisted to look so malleable yet hard as rocks or the precarious way in which they stand that draws me in however I can honestly say I really am a fan of his work. While walking around and through his pieces Sequence, Band and Torqued Torus Inversion there is this disarming energy, I felt as though I had no balance and almost dizzy. While inside one of his shapes surrounded by metal that looks as though any moment it may come crashing down I had this intense feeling I can only describe as "ass tingle" - crude, I know, its the same feeling I get when I am up high and there is no railing and I look over an edge ( The first time I got this feeling from art was at a Bill Viola show at the old ICA in Boston- it was then that I decided video would be my medium of choice). The feeling inside a Serra shape for me is excitement and fear with a dash of disturbing serenity - a vortex of confusion if you will...with ass tingles. However this feeling is also unique for each individual and some may not feel anything at all and just be starring at the water stains running down the seem of the curved wall- which is all good if you ask me.
If you take the time to appreciate the rusted beauty of the finish, the curves, the scale, the gouged out spots that make it appear to be clay, if you look at it from different angles, walk around, just absorb- you will not be disappointed. I found many amazing views through openings that created abstract landscapes for one to admire, or even what I like to call "sets" and enjoyed finding new ways to look at the work. There are also smaller works of his on the sixth floor that prove even without the grand scale his work is powerful, transforming and transcending materials to raise questions in one's mind. Often times when people see things like this (or art in general) they are looking to be "DONE"- They walk in and expect something amazing to happen and when it doesn't they think they either don't "get it" or it's "stupid". I know because I used to be one of those people. I learned that just by looking at something and being open to it I can enjoy it far more than if I am looking for "meaning" thus frustrating myself when I don't "get it".
It seems lately in the New York art scene "idea and person" has eclipsed skill and craft thus intimidating some people into thinking they are not capable of understanding art. I find that very unfortunate. While I am one who knows and respects ideas I also find this disheartening at times for many reasons but one in particular is that some artist now hide behind ideas and use that as an excuse for poorly crafted art (yes some people do the opposite by hiding behind skill with no idea- the key is a balance). In my opinion the self importance of the artist is what keeps the general public from wanting to be a part of it. That behaviour begs the questions- is one making art for art sake, for artists only, for the select few- or is one making art as an expression of self, for the masses, even just FOR oneself? I do not know the answers to any of these questions and once again it is a personal question for each artist.
There is one thing I do know- once art is made and on view it is open to interpretation in as many ways as the human mind can go and there is nothing wrong with that. An artist may be frustrated because you do not see what they intended you to see however a good artist (once again, in my opinion) is open to new ideas and welcomes the new views on something they have made (I mean who the heck doesn't like to talk about themselves or something they made).
Serra's work is open for interpretation , he may in fact find it disgusting that I do not see some ideas embedded deep withing the spiraling sheets of steel or that maybe I even missed his point all together. I honestly don't care- sure I would love to hear what he had to say, but for me my reaction and my interpretation was all I needed. I read the essays provided by the museum (I always do) however it did nothing to increase my enjoyment of the work- it did inform me as to a historical time line and what the museum sees in the work, however once again, I enjoyed it on my own level. This work ultimately reminded me of why I love art- and that is something I have not felt in a long time. So please, go to the museum's this summer, enjoy the air conditioning and fuck all the "arty" people- just go and look at something nice and enjoy it on any level you can. If you don't enjoy it- hey no love lost at all but at least you stayed cool while you tried.
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