Tonight was a doozy. Saw paintings of bugs and moths in the lobby of a theater, super-sharp works by Zach Meisner at Inpost Artspace, a million drawings and paintings by J. Lynn Johnson at Revlis and a small, multi-layered installation at The Normal. That’s on top of seeing Artificial Selection at 516 Arts this morning, a really cool show curated by Rhiannon Mercer that features robots and other kooky hybrids of nature and machine. While there, I witnessed the awe emanating from our group of middle schoolers as they watched three plastic robots salute and jerk-off in unison (A Well-Regulated Militia Bearing Arms by Adrianne Wortzel). Other things I’ve been carrying around are the Picasso show at the Metropolitan Museum (with Doug and Mike Starn on the roof), Broadway musicals and Che Chen’s amazing screening at Millenium Film Workshop on May 22. It consisted of 8- millimeter films accompanied by an audio track constructed from pre-1970s Afghan records. Pretty amazing.
Now, as I’m getting ready to go to bed, I’m thinking of the role of the audience in molding meaning for other audience members, thinking that Kobe Bryant is a kind of post-Kippenberger basketball star: full of talent, but born after the age of great transitions. In basketball, quality can’t be compromised in an effort to make people reflect on the game, because you’ll lose. So maybe Bryant is more like Lady Gaga: a student of history embracing self-obliteration and asterisks. Till tomorrow, because there’s a lot more to say.