I'll Take Manhattan (Part II)

Our Friday adventure continues!  After spending some time in the Bronx, my friend from work and I headed back into Manhattan to the famous Museum Mile, a stretch of the Upper East Side where one can find many of the city's best hot dog stands--in front of museums.  One of the Key destinations was the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but sadly, they only participated through the end of June.  I've heard from other Key holders that it "unlocked" free admission, which is kind of funny since the admission fee is a suggested donation anyway.  There was also a music box that a staff member would show to Key holders.  Since I only received my key the day before the museum stopped participating, I didn't really get a chance to see it, but I still wanted to stop by since it was one of the destinations.

We then walked down along Central Park to the Whitney Museum of American Art.  I'd been there once before, seven years ago, but couldn't remember much from that trip.  The lock we were looking for was on the coat check counter right by the entrance, so we went there first.  It was a simple wooden box, with a strap around it locked by a padlock.  I opened it, not really sure what to expect, and the walls of the box unfolded down flat.  Insider was a model of the new building the Whitney is going to build down by the High Line park.  The insides of each wall, now lying flat on the table, had detailed schematics of each wall of the building.  It was really cool to see, it felt like we were peering into the planning stages of the Whitney's future.

We then had the rest of the afternoon to wander the museum.  I often approach art museums with some trepidation.  I like art works, in general, but I find I rarely understand or find meaning in most modern art.  I feel like the concept of "making art" has become more about the artist's act than the art itself.  For example, one wall in the Whitney had a large canvas with markings on it made by various materials.  The markings seemed to be random, and I just couldn't find any meaning in any of it.  Nothing.  Near it was a television showing the artist "creating" it.  He had set up some metal ramps along the wall, and was climbing on these ramps while making the random markings on the canvas.  The kicker: he was climbing on these metal ramps wearing ice skates.  Yes, ice skates.  So naturally he was not having an easy time on the metal ramps, and I can only imagine the sound must have been horrendous.  And this is art.  This is inspired creation.  What?  Surely, surely, there's an easier way to make random marks on a canvas.  Perhaps I'm artistically-challenged, but I fail to see how the artist's act of creation--done in private--can be more "art" than the results of that creation, hung in a museum.  I feel like art should be judged by the people viewing it, and not have meaning imposed upon it by the artist.  This tends to put me at odds with any art that I can't make sense out of in my own head.

Same goes for one installation that was an entire floor set up for a performance.  There was a large projection screen showing what looked like old black and white video of cowboys riding horses, with random bright green dots slowly filling the screen.  In front of this was a group of musicians, consisting of a cellist and several guys with keyboards.  The cellist made the occasional scraping sounds, while the keyboardists looked incredibly busy and active producing only static and what sounded like speaker feedback.  Another floor showed videos of a woman slamming a door, with a loud door-slamming soundtrack that was out of synch with the video itself.  I was supposed to feel the artist's frustration at not being taken seriously as a young female artist.  Yet, seeing this, I really couldn't take her seriously as any kind of artist at all.

It wasn't all incomprehensible (to me) sculptures and installations.  There was one entire floor devoted to Charles Burchfield, who I came to really enjoy throughout the exhibit.  He started with a sort of realist watercolor style painting landscapes from his childhood.  Though the exhibit we could see his style change, becoming brighter, darker, then more fantastical.  His were interesting and engaging, and I found myself seeing more and more in his paintings.  There was even a room showing his throw-away doodles and drawings that he never turned into paintings, and it was fun to see what he hadn't intended to be displayed.  Thoroughly enjoyable.

Having covered the Whitney top to bottom, the plan was to jump into the subway and head down to meet Lynn near Bryant Park for the fifth and final lock of the day.  We started walking toward the subway, walked past it, and ended up walking the two miles down into Midtown to meet Lynn at a little Italian restaurant we've been to before, Via Italia.  Lynn and I ate there when she decided to move to NYC, and later when I proposed, so it's a place we tend to gravitate towards when looking for a good dinner in Midtown.

After dinner, we walked down to Bryant Park for the last destination of the evening.  By this point, night had fallen, setting the perfect scene for this particular lock.  In Bryant Park, near the 'Wichcraft kiosk we found a specific park lamp.  It looked like all the others that light up the park except for a small green box near the base with a lock on it.  On this evening, some event was going on, and we had to get just inside the barrier they'd set up to access the lock.  I opened it with my key and found a simple light switch.  I turned off the light.  Lynn then reached over and turned it back on, though it took several long minutes for it to warm up and light again.  I'd have to say this is one of the coolest locks.  These lamps are everywhere throughout the city, and it felt strangely special to be able to turn one off and on.  If any of these locks are left in place after the project ends next week, I hope this one is among them.

As promised, a map of the whole day:


View Key to the City - BX/Man - 8/27/10 in a larger map