p.s. 1

So maybe P.S. 1 is not the best place to bring your parents, unless your mom is like a performance artist who likes to smear chocolate on her naked body and call it society sh*tting on her, or what have you — and I’m not even trying to denigrate the work of contemporary artists who use nudity (though it doesn’t really do anything for me.) But the old people in my life like the Met, you know Fauvism, Impressionism, the hits, and I dig that stuff, but I loooooove modern and contemporary art. I love when artists just paint a room blue and you’re suppose to move a penny from one bucket or another. So if I’m playing cruise director to the stars, chances are, you have to go to one of these joints with me.

After our like ninth photo of an erect penis, I turned to the folks and said “I bet you’re missing Monet right now.” But they were fine, because I bought them red wine and a blondie brownie, which they had never tried before and were like paralyzed by paroxysms of joy upon tasting it. I’m telling you, at some point in life, they became four years old again and ice cream just keeps them very quiet and content.

But genetalia art aside, there were some cool pieces. There was a 1968 film Yoko Ono did called “cut” where people were invited to come up and cut off a piece of her clothing. Most men just took a tiny piece, but then there is this one self-satisfied looking jack*ss who comes up and cuts off her dress top, the top of her slip, and her bra. And from her face, you can tell she’s getting nervous and afraid, and I have to say, this gentleman’s treatment of her really p*ssed me off.

(Sorry for all the cursing! It’s the exhibit’s influence!) And one final plug, they have a cool Icelandic artist showing something called “Take Your Time” by Oluaf Gustaferson or Kristopher Kristofferson (I have no idea), and he had rooms full of different treatments of light. I don’t know why. I told the folks that Iceland has really short days (which could be a lie, but I vaguely remember this fact from junior high), thus maybe his obsession. He has one room where the entire ceiling is glowing and I felt like I was in the movie “Sunshine.” Neat.

3 Replies to “p.s. 1”

  1. I have only read about and seen stills of Yoko’s “Cut Piece,” but based on my limited knowledge and what you wrote, it sounds very powerful. She also did plenty of goofy and pointless shit both before and after she met John Lennon, but my point is … I didn’t really have a point, actually. Except that “Cut Piece” seems cool and even though I’m not into contemporary conceptual stuff for the most part, Yoko is actually a legitimate artist besides being The Woman Who Supposedly Broke Up The Beatles.

    She’s also made some pretty good albums in her time. I saw her live at Tramps back in the day with Sean Lennon and Cibo Matto as her backup band, which was way cool. A couple of weeks later, I saw her in this Japanese teahouse on 71st St. and I went up to her and told her that I really liked it. She was so happy that I wasn’t just some Beatles-obsessed freak that she got all giggly and friendly and shook my hand and stuff. She even asked me where I’d been standing, and when I told her she said “I think I remember you!” So she’s OK by me.

    I know, this has very little to do with the subject of your blog, but it’s a cool story, right?

  2. Yes, very cool. I think about stuff like how hard it must be to have married such a supernova and not really gotten to develop her own schtick. I don’t even love the Beatles but for a handful of songs (sorry, don’t stone me to death), but Lennon was so clearly gifted beyond the average bear that her weird art did not stand a chance. But I recommend the Cut piece. It’s very absorbing, and so that something can age well like that, I think is cool.

    I kinda remember her song in the 80s where she wears a white man’s suit. My problem is that she doesn’t have a spectacular voice, though I do like art where nonsingers singer, non actors act, non riverdancers riverdance, etc.

    How cool is it that you made her day.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *