Over the winter break, SHR and I went to the Whitney for some culture. We were both quite disappointed in our visit for many reasons. We wanted to like the Kara Walker more than we did. We wanted more of the Jacob Lawrence Great Migration series instead of the few that were there.
Okay, no big deal on either of those fronts. But what got us was how lame this exhibit was. Maybe we just aren't artsy or smart enough to get it. Then again, I think we kind of did get it. And what we got was unimpressive. I wasn't even as annoyed by the whole thing as much as SHR was so I'll let her chime in in the comments section.
But what really sealed the deal for me was when I walked into the room pictured below.
I didn't look down since I was looking at what was on the walls. A security guard quickly came up to me to scold me to not stand on the art. Say what now? I looked down and saw that I was stepping on a splotch of pink paint. Hmmmm.... okay. You want to call that art, that is fine with me. Honestly. I'm smart enough to know that art is in the eye of the beholder and that I don't really know all that much about art in general to get too opinionated about it.
But come on! If you don't want me to step on your art, then block it off. Or let people stand on it and then as it gets dirty that becomes part of the art as the color of the paint changes.
It wasn't even that crowded on the day we were there. How do they police the spot on a crowded weekend day? Utterly silly.
I did very much enjoy the Ingo Maurer exhibit at the Cooper Hewitt though.
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