Sunday in New Yawk
Myles Callum
The Art Show is an annual exhibition by dealers, held for the benefit
of the Henry Street Settlement, a social-services agency. It's held at
the Seventh Regiment Armory, a big square red-brick building at Park and
67th.
We expected to see works by contemporary artists we'd never heard of,
but it turned out to be hardly that. This show had stuff by Picasso,
Miro, Braque, Frank Stella, Roy Liechtenstein, Degas, Matisse, Calder,
names like that. Marie can add more, I'm sure. Seemed like there were
as many familiar names as new ones. We looked for a Klee, because his
whimsical "Twittering Machine" was the first piece of art that ever
made me laugh out loud. But no Klees.
I soon confirmed that, with some exceptions, I like bold, bright colors,
kindergarten colors; Marie's tastes are more subtle. She may tell you
she talks in gangsteresque fashion, but this is one gun moll with
refined sensibilities. She peered closely at paintings, examined the
artists' techniques, tried to see how they achieved this or that effect.
At one point I asked her, "What are you looking at so closely?"
"The charcoal."
"What charcoal?" I couldn't see any charcoal; looked like an oil
painting to me, or acrylics. She pointed to a section of subtle
shading.
We looked at the label on the wall. "Charcoal and oil," by so-and-so.
New respect for Tomlinson.
Some of the neatest sculptures were by a woman whose name Marie
recognized as a designer of perfume bottles. Fun stuff, especially one
huge, joyous sculpted figure of an earth mama painted in bright, glossy
acrylics. I'd like to have that one in my kindergarten playroom. I
forget the artist's name. What is it, MT?
Marie's boyfriend, Rich, had a video shoot today, so he was working.
When I told her my plan for the afternoon, she offered to join me. I
knew she had an Art History major (actually it was a double major, the
other in sociology), but she downplays that and thinks of herself as a
generalist.
All well and good, but all I can say is, if you want company at an art
exhibition, go with Marie. Just don't *expect* her to be an expert.
I also discovered that one does not casually wander through such an
exhibition when you're with this Tomlinson person. We worked our way
from one end to the other, missing not a one of the 60-plus exhibits; a
three-hour journey. I think we saw everything there--paintings,
sculptures, and some wonderfully detailed miniature African carvings I
especially wanted to see. If I'd gone by myself, as I had planned, I'd
probably have left after an hour. And missed a lot.
We both came out with cases of sensory overload, though not as bad as
I've experienced at the Museum of Modern Art, where you have room after
room of huge canvases with all this color and design assaulting your
senses.
Nice Sunday afternoon.
Myles
Marie Tomlinson
>Some of the neatest sculptures were by a woman whose name Marie
>recognized as a designer of perfume bottles. Fun stuff, especially one
>huge, joyous sculpted figure of an earth mama painted in bright, glossy
>acrylics. I'd like to have that one in my kindergarten playroom. I
>forget the artist's name. What is it, MT?
Nikki de St. Phalle (sp?). Not just the bottles, but the perfume
itself. I didn't know she (I'm assuming Nikki's a she) did the
bottles, but the same motifs were present--the bottle is a deep
blue decorated with boldly colored intertwining snakes.
I always liked the bottle. Was really surprised to see these
sculptures, one a gorgeously colorful ceramic fountain. I didn't
know.
We saw lots of things for Myles' playroom.
Thanks, Myles. I had a good time.
Marie