Guggenheim

Fresh from our great experience at the Whitney, we resolved to try the Guggenheim, another "modern" museum of note. It was "pay what you wish" night, we chipped in a cautious $5 each, and left an hour later feeling we had been robbed. The Guggenheim in Bilbao is one of our favorites, we've been there a couple times or more, and are sure to return when we can. But not the Guggenheim in New York. Once in a lifetime is once too many. And Vicki has actually been twice!

Frank Lloyd Wright's "masterpiece": his monstrosity, some say; 
apparently no one showed FLW any pix of 5th Ave. nor of Central
Park for the new museum to "blend" into (think: Falling Waters);
he should have stuck with Prairie style; you're supposed to take the
elevator to the top and then spiral down, like a corkscrew, looking
at the "art"; alas the size and shape of the walls is quite restrictive... 

Interior, looking up; the lighting color changes periodically
(like Singapore) but the barrage of gibberish continues...

Pano of ground floor gibberish; designed to make you "think"...

Our main interest was the Thannhauser collection of

impressionist and post-impressionist art; here, Eduoard

Vuillard, two panels of Place Vintimille, 1909-1910; it

didn't help one's appreciation to learn that Thannhauser,

himself Jewish, as an art dealer had profited inordinately

from fellow Jews desperately fleeing Germany in the 30s;

there have been lawsuits and restitutions...

Picasso, Moulin de la Galette, 1900; 19 year-old Picasso: the guy could
paint!

Claude Monet, The Ducal Palace from San Giorgio Maggiore, 1908 

Manet, Woman in a Striped Dress, 1867; not your best
Manet, IMHO

Renoir, Woman with a Parakeet, 1871; Renoir before he was Renoir

Van Gogh, Landscape with Snow, 1888; among his first paintings
in Arles, finding his voice

Picasso, The Fourteenth of July, 1901; still Picasso before he was
Picasso

Cezanne, The Neighborhood of Jas de Bouffan, 1886

Cezanne, Bibemus, 1895-99; Bibemus was a quarry near Aix-en-Provence
that he frequented

So that was it for the more conventional art at the
Guggenheim; the next several floors were of contemporary
stuff such as the above

Leaking, like bedbugs, into adjacent spaces

Truly profound thought

More truly profound thought

No end to the bombardment of truly profound thought; what you're
not seeing is the upward spiraling of the truly profound thoughts

One art work took a collection of scores of Trump's Twits, printed 
them (as above), lined them up along 100 feet or more of the spiraling wall,
then had them falling into a heap of Twits

The crowd loved it

The Guggenheim must keep the AI gibberish-generators running

around the clock

Another floor or so was given to reminders of McCarthyism,

1984, Big Brother, etc.

Mercifully, there were many lengths of empty space

Actually, the gift shoppe was better than the museum itself

The Whitney

The Whitney is among New York's many storied art museums, but, as the museum of modern American art, we had to talk ourselves into going: we are confirmed Eurocentrics and particularly value works that have stood the test of time. But we went nonetheless and particularly enjoyed the Whitney and its collection, in part because of a great docent (Jan) and tour, and also because of the electricity of the Free Friday Night crowd. We'll be back. And we may approach contemporary art with a little greater understanding.

So our strategy with NYC's plethora of museums has been
to go for the reduced fare, the free Friday nights, the "pay
what you wish" days; with the encyclopedic Met, we were
sure we'd visit sufficiently often to justify a membership; 
with most of the others, $30 or more per person/per visit
seemed too much to risk on what might well have turned out
to be, um, not to our taste...

We wisely enrolled in the one hour tour of the Whitney's
classics, led by a museum pro, Jan, one of the best we've
had over the years; above is The Brooklyn Bridge: 
Variation on an Old Theme, by Joseph Stella, 1939

Elsie Driggs, Pittsburgh, 1927

George Bellows, Dempsey and Firpo, 1924; that's Dempsey being
knocked out of the ring...but he came back to win

Florine Stettheimer, New York/Liberty, 1918-1919; 
the Whitney's first acquisition

Georgia O'Keefe, The Mountain, New Mexico, 1931

Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, founder and major supporter of
the museum; also an artist herself and a visionary, founding an
art museum where artists themselves would take the lead...the
portrait by Robert Henri, 1916 

Thomas Hart Benton, The Lord Is My Shepherd, 1926;
deaf couple

Charles Sheeler, The River Rouge Plant, 1932: FoMoCo...

Georgia O'Keefe, Summer Days, 1936 (a gift of Calvin
Klein, 1994)

Andrew Wyeth, Winter Fields, 1942

Edward Hopper, Early Sunday Morning, 1930

Edward Hopper, A Woman in the Sun, 1961 (the model was his
wife, Josephine Nivison Hooper, then aged 78...the docent noted)

Edward Hopper, Soir Bleu, 1914; as one might infer, Hopper studied
in Paris for a time...multiple art history allusions...)

Clark Gable look-aline detail...

Hopper, Self Portrait, 1925-1930

Paul Cadmus, Sailors and Floosies, 1938; banned by the Navy Department

Andy Warhol, Before and After, #4, 1962; his nose job; seriously

Ed Clark, Winter Bitch, 1959; now into the "I could have done that"
realm

After the tour, we took a break and ventured to the top floor overlook

But wait, there's more...one of the Whitney's things that make it 
artist-driven is its biennial show, a juried contest of contemporary
art...think of the Salon, or the Academy...wait, no, don't...anyway,
we ventured onto the floor that features some of these...

A wall of photographs of women's health caregivers...sorry, no documentation

Susan Jackson, Singin', in Sweetcake's Storm, 2017;
hanging painting we liked

Eddie Rodolfo Aparicio, White Dove, Let us Fly, 2024
strangely appealed...a whole dump-truck's worth of
modified amber, volcanic stone, etc.

Another Suzanne Jackson hanging painting
we liked; from Savannah...a SCAD grad?

One entire floor of the Whitney was a multi-media celebration of
the work of dancer and choreographer Alvin Ailey

Music, live performance...

Video of his many performances and projects

And other exhibits of the Afro-American experience...

Little Island, Or, Ile Flottante

On our Highline walk we'd noticed an interesting structure out in the river, clearly human-made, but also clearly a park, and a very popular one. A few days later we were to visit the Whitney museum and so resolved to see the Little Island park on the way. We had no clue of the adult content at the end of our walk...but now you do...and you have been warned.

Little Island, or, as I prefer, Ile Flottante, which is probably inappropriate
on every level, but, hey, it sounds better; also summons sweet memories

Not always on this site along the Hudson

As later pix will show, the whole "island" was beautifully-
landscaped; here, some false autumn crocus (croci?) are
coming up and out

View south, financial district

Roots of the island

View north

East

Our eventual goal, the Whitney

New Jersey sculpture

Late September color

The River

More sculpture

We thought giving this a twirl might cure my Mal
de Debarquement Syndrome...maybe we twirled it the
wrong way

Headed back to terra firma

Historic piers along here...the Lusitania embarked from the pier on
this site, to be torpedoed by a U-boat off the Irish coast in 1917; the
loss of American life led to the United States' entry into WWI

The Titanic would have docked here...instead, the Carpathia did,
with the survivors...

Helpful map of the Hudson docks and piers

So there we were, crossing 10th Ave., minding our own business,
headed for the Whitney, when there appeared this colorful couple,
crossing toward us, accompanied by photographers...

Clad only in their super-heroic paint jobs

But fully documented, including by me; we regarded this
incident merely as a segue to the Whitney museum of
contemporary American art...