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day 2 of bliss week. after waking up and clearing out early while clausa cleaned the apartment, went to st. mark's bookshop to gawk at how irresistible book jackets are getting these days, then saw flyer for writers' reading group and called for more info. this month's assignment is the tale of genji, and last year they read the amazing adventures of kavalier & clay, the god of small things, the verificationist, the human stain, fear of flying, blue angel, and other things i've been wanting to get around to (but i read faster under duress).
thumbed through louise bourgeois retrospective. her husband died in 1973. stravinsky premiered the rite of spring in 1913. all these important, world-changing things happened before i was born; i wish that i hadn't missed out on so much of it sometimes.
looked for resistible books, sans jackets, at the library, and placed holds on them with my shiny new library card. had (crappy) lunch in the (sunny, warm) park with (dear friend) maurice as we discussed our soccer practice absenteeism, relationships, sex in relationships, pitfalls of living as if you're a sex & the city character, then i went to northwest chelsea for a spot of gallery viewing with the following on my handspring: storyville portraits @ julie saul, david armstrong @ matthew marks, carlos betancourt @ robert miller, kunié sugiura @ leslie tonkonow. some thoughts:
- j-no, thanks for the heads-up about the bellocq exhibitbeautiful stuff. i thought that the clothed female shots were better than the nudes, but that could just be the poof in me. some, make that several, of them have these hateful black scratches over the faces. #28: woman stretched over ironing board playing with a puppy, proving that sometimes pet photos aren't totally cheesy.
- while i was looking at them, i heard a woman in the office (ms. saul herself?) telling someone over the phone to kiss her ass.
- on a billboard overlooking 26th street between 10th and 11th avenues: "to express conceptual ideas write a book, don't paint." </tongueclick>
- carlos betancourt strikes me as the john bartlett of gallery-grazing art for the moment: because he works out, his not-so-great work gets fawning coverage.
- gallery art that is "sexy" is usually "crappy." ("so what does that make dantewoo.com?" uhhh ... )
- how can you trust things made by people named kiki and roni?
- whenever you go gallery hopping, you veer off course and stick your head somewhere that ends up being the best thing you see that day. for example: tunga, which was filled with dark-colored lights and stains that (really) looked like shit and ominous sounds and copper-colored metallic rapunzel hair.
posted January 29, 2002 in art, delivery. 2003
trackback url: https://dantewoo.com/mt/mt-tb.cgi/447
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two things i've noticed in music videos lately:
dude, i got a dell.
