|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
god bless summer hours. i tore out of work at 3pm on the dot, and headed down tenth avenue to check out the caio fonseca exhibit at paul kasmin.
if memory serves, the winter i spent interning at rogers marvel took me, accompanying an austere croatian architect named dubrafka, to mr. fonseca's east village loft to take measurements. his paintings were on the walls and she said they were nice, weren't they. i like his work even more today, because it's like you're looking through it into another painting underneath. i was 21 then.
next i went into matthew marks for a second, but the stuff he had in his other gallery that i saw last week with jami was better, but the cool thing is that i happened to walk by friedrich petzel across the street and check out the penetration show there. there was one huge piece of pink foam that had been stretched through the air so it was like a foam wine rack. another piece had a clothesline running from the entrance to the back of the gallery, and way in the corner was a piece of red lint that bobbed up and down the line based on vibrations triggered by visitors entering and moving around the gallery. sarah sze, grow or die.
i'd never been to the paula cooper gallery before, but it's similar to the other one on 22nd street with wooden rafters. i was the only one in there looking at chonk, a 9-ton steel sculpture by mark di suvero. i tiptoed around and listened to sounds: the music coming from the car driving by, the music coming from the reception gay, an airplane landing, a piano playing?, humming lights, wooden rafters creaking.
posted June 07, 2002 in art, delivery. 200420012000