Sunday, August 12, 2007

NYM (hearts) Richard Serra

It has been a very weird day, even by New York standards. I woke up and discovered the water wasn't running in the bathroom, though mysteriously it was working in the kitchen. I waited it out a little, thinking that maybe they were doing plumbing work or something. But when the water still wasn't working an hour later, I called the Super. Here's where the day hits bottom: The Super tells me that a girl on one of the floors below me died, with the water running. Because it is a crime scene, they can't shut the water off in her apartment, so they had to shut the whole valve down. So no water in the bathroom until the police move the body.

I was pretty seriously freaked. I even woke up G to tell him. Then emailed my mom and sister. Then I waited. I occupied myself by posting some old NYMs to the blog (from the email-only days of NYM). Then after an hour, I couldn't take it any more. I had really, really wanted to go to the Richard Serra show at the MoMA and this was the only day I was going to have a chance to do it. But, due to my 80 levels of OCD, I cannot leave the house unbathed. So I got twitchy. I called the Super again. He said it might be another hour. The MoMA's hours of operation were dwindling away. I pitched a mini fit to G.

About 20 minutes later, the water came on. I hopped in the shower, eager to start my day. I was on the conditioner stage of my shower when I realized what an extremely insensitive git was being. I mean, someone died. She could have been killed, or had an accident, or (what I deem most likely) ended her own life. It is a real tragedy and I still can't seem to wrap my mind around it.

I headed out to the MoMA seeing and appreciating the world like I rarely remember to. I was thankful to be. And from there on I had a really amazing day. The MoMA is a wonderful, yet expensive place, so I don't go too often. But I really wanted to see this Richard Serra show; I am so glad I did.


Serra started with smaller sculptures, but now works in giant pieces of steel, creating environments you can walk through. He says he wants you to experience his pieces on a psychological level and I totally did. There is something very natural and cave-like about these large works. I'd even call them womb-like. Definitely feminine. If you go—and please do if you have the chance—walk close along the walls. The first time the angle changes and the wall starts to fall away from you, you have this overwhelming feeling of space and motion, even vertigo. All with slabs of metal! It's so simple and beautiful and powerful. I seriously almost cried while I was walking through Band on the second floor. The only other time I've been so struck by a piece of art is when I saw David in Florence.

Of course, I was/am probably emotionally ... er ... unbalanced. Well, more than usual. I hope, though, that wherever the girl from downstairs is, she can rest in peace. And I hope you can all find a bit of peace today, too.

Until next time ...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Lizard-
Dayna and I just saw David 2 weeks ago. I am not much into art, but I was also incredibly moved when I saw him. He's amazing. We nearly got booted from the museum for taking pitures. The docent's word were 'NO PHOTO! GET OUT!'
Carla