Buckyball

That variegated orb of light is an installation piece by artist Leo Villareal, currently on view in Madison Square Park through February.

According to the piece's website: 

"Relying on LED technologies driven by chance, BUCKYBALL’s light sequences will create exuberant, random compositions of varied speed, color, opacity, and scale. BUCKYBALL will trigger neurological processes within the brain, calling on our natural impulse to identify patterns and gather meaning from our external environment."

Maybe.  I dunno.  I just thought it was kinda pretty.

You Metcha*

A roof with a view

A friend came to town for the weekend, and wanted to spend some time in the Met.  I could relate.  Each time I visit the museum's familiar halls, I think, "Why don't I come here more often?"  I should go there more often.

Saraceno's rooftop installation / self-portrait

It was a nice day, so we climbed the stairs up to the roof and drank in those park and skyline views.  Amazing.  I should come here more often.

Statue of Diana

Whenever I visit the museum with a friend, I demand to know if they've ever seen "Please Don't Eat the Pictures," and when the answer is (invariably) 'no,' I make them listen to my plot synopsis of this adorable & underrated Sesame Street special from 1983, in which the whole gang (Cookie Monster, Grover, Luis, all of them) get locked in the museum overnight, Big Bird meets an enchanted Egyptian prince, Oscar finds some statues that really speak to him, and everyone learns a valuable lesson about art (and friendship).

[Note: this flick has never been released on DVD (much to my chagrin) (who can I write to about that?) but you can watch it on YouTube!  Start here.  It will save me from having to describe all the incredibly endearing scenes to you, the next time we're at the Met together.]

Warhol exhibit / balloon man in the park

Leaving the museum, it was still nice and light enough for a walk across the park (with more 'art' yet to be seen).  As we wound our way west, I promised myself, "I will come back more often."


*Oy.  That was uncalled for.  Apologies!

Stefon, Illustrated

(Kinda kills me how often he breaks in this.  So fun to watch.)

One of the notes we’re often given in Improv is to incorporate specifics into our scene-work.  Don't just mention you have a dog - mention you have a Doberman.  Or better yet - an asthmatic Doberman.  The devil's in the details, and the details - they are funny.

It's one of the reasons I love Bill Heder's SNL character, Stefon.  His entire schtick is details: weird, weird, hilarious, weird details. Expired Lunchables, Alf in a trench coat, Asian Balki’s, German Smurfs, human bathmats, Spud Webb, A Fish Called Kwanza.  Love it.

(I also love how the character of Stefon came to be (watch here).  He's mash-up of real-life people. Truth in comedy, comedy in truth.)

Have you ever wondered what the NYC night clubs that Stefon so lovingly describes actually look like? Neither have I. But then I saw on the Hairpin last week that several artists had made Stefon-inspired sketches, and I got curious.  Check them out here.

(Source)

Oh, to live in Stefon's world for a New York minute...

White and Red All Over

At the end of March, the American Folk Art Museum staged an impressive quilt show at the Park Ave Armory.

I doubt I'd be a quilt connoisseur if left to my own devices, but my mother's quilt-enthusiasm rubbed off on me over the past few years. Now I find them kinda interesting, especially when considering the history (of both women and Americana) that's tied up in the art form.

So after learning of this short-lived show, I snuck up to the Armory on my lunch break to check out the scene.

The venue is pretty cavernous, and windows in the ceiling cast cool shapes on the floorboards. See?

The demographics of quilt show attendees (based on an informal poll I took with my eyes) seemed to skew pretty elderly. That was cool by me, 'cause I can hang with old people. Though I did spot a few younger folks there, including a man I initially mistook for Zach Galifianakis (!!), before realizing it was just another bearded Brooklyn artisan. Le sigh.

The quilts (all six-hundred and fifty of them) were made of red and white fabric, and most dated to the 19th century, though some were older and some more recent. They hung in swirling, stacked formations throughout the Armory. The curator, in her notes, likened the installation to playing cards tossed in the air, "where they hover weightlessly, seemingly frozen in midair." Yes. I could see that. It was really quite an impressive scene.

The show was titled "Infinite Variety," because although the six-hundred and fifty quilts shared the same simple color scheme, no one quilt was identical to another. (I think there's a snowflake / life metaphor in there somewhere; I'll leave it to you to suss it out.)

Haps About Town

I've been inspired lately by some awesome happity-haps in this city.  Allow me to introduce you to two of them:

A-#1) Underheard in New York

A group of interns decided to see what would/could happen if homeless people were able to broadcast what life was really like for them on the streets.  So they gave cell phones to 4 homeless men.  Armed with one month of unlimited text messaging, these men have been tweeting their thoughts, feelings, and daily activities to the general public.  And the public has responded - helping these men reunite with family members, gain access to job-search resources, pay off debts, even speak with a personal hero (Steve Smith of the NY Giants).

I love the simplicity of this project.  I think its use of Twitter may have redeemed that site in my mind, because through this social networking medium, these marginalized men have been given a voice.  I love that Underheard in New York is connecting people, and that people are helping one another, and I love that in the short while I've been following the tweets of these 4 men, I've begun to look at all homeless people a little differently.

A-#2) The Spidey Project is also a testament that small projects can have a large reach.

Masterminded by Justin Moran (a fellow improviser), who decided to write and stage a Spiderman musical that would open one day before Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark opens on Broadway.  For those of you who haven't been following along at home, S:TOtD is this season's big-budget Broadway blockbuster, with music by Bono & The Edge.  It's costing around $65 million to produce and has been plagued with technical difficulties and actor injuries.  It's been in previews for months while these issues are ironed out, and is set to open officially on March 15th.

Moran decided to prove that good art didn't need to cost $65 million.  He collaborated with some friends to write the book and lyrics, hired talent willing to work for free, and secured donated rehearsal and theater space. His labor of love (and moxie) has already generated some great press.  He's operating with a budget of $0 (zero! dollars!) and charging $0 for tickets.

The Spidey Project premieres on March 14th.  Everything about this is happening fast: opening night is only 30 days from the day Moran first conceived the idea, and tickets for the 8pm show sold out only 30 seconds after they were made available.  If you're interested and can act fast too - tickets for a 10pm showing on March 14th will be made available at noon today.  Support the (free) arts!

Show Time

Washington Square Park

"If I'm going to do something that could be provocative or artistically relevant, I have to be prepared to put myself in a place where I feel unsafe, not completely in control. I have no fear of failure whatsoever, because often out of that uncertainty something is salvaged, something that is worthwhile comes about.

There is no progress without failure.

And each failure is a lesson learned. Unnecessary failures are the ones where an artist tries to second guess an audience's taste, and little comes out of that situation except a kind of inward humiliation."

~ David Bowie

So Nice in SoHo

Playing peek-a-boo with Grace

I got to spend Sunday afternoon with two of my favorite ladies - Becks and Baby Grace.

Despite my repeated admonishments to "Stop growing up!", Baby Grace continues to grow, get new teeth and learn new tricks. On Sunday she showed off her latest accomplishment: waving. And I'll tell you what - when that baby smiled and waved at me, I was wrecked. Done for. Heart completely melted. As her name implies, Grace is amazing.

But then - I'd expect nothing less from the daughter of Becks - one of the most amazing people I know. They are a fun pair, those two.

We strolled the streets of SoHo, looking at the art for sale on the sidewalks of West Broadway. There was an artist showing some amazing photography on canvas - scenes of Venice canals and a beach at dawn and a pretty tree. Another artist – whose display tables stretched the length of an entire block – seemed to have an unnatural obsession with drawing large lady bottoms.

We walked by an artist arranging piles of colorful posters, and he stopped us to remark on Grace’s cuteness (few can resist her charms). After chit-chatting for just a moment, the artist asked us, “Would you like a free poster?”

Instantly we were suspicious.  I felt my posture change, stiffen; I wanted to back away. Why would this man want to give us something for nothing? What’s the catch?