|Ann Hamilton's The Event of a Thread at Park Avenue Armory at closing|
Happy New Year!
2013 is already off to a better start than last year, isn't it? Ok, I know, it's been three days, but I'm optimistic.
We saw an amazing amount of good shows last year. Many of which I didn't blog about. A friend asked if I had become lazy; which annoyed me quite a bit, but there just wasn't enough time to see and post. So here are a few worth mentioning.
One of our favorites was Tomas Saraceno's Cloud City on the roof of the Met this past summer. I was heartbroken when I found out it was already owned by Christian K. Keesee, because I wanted it for my own imaginary back yard. It will, however be at the Green Box Arts Festival in Green Mountain Falls, Colo. summer 2013 in a lush forest. I read in an interview that one of the inspirations for the modular shapes were liquid bubbles.
|I kind of see a resemblance|
Two other shows we highly recommend that are still open, but I don't have images of because there is no photography allowed:
Bound Unbound: Lin Tianmiao at Asia Society through Jan 27, 2013
Christian Marclay's The Clock at Moma through Jan 21, 2013
But let's get back to Ann Hamilton's show at The Park Armory which closes Sunday the 6th...so get over there this weekend!
|Still of the cloth being pulled by the swings|
|The kid watching the singer at closing|
|the best vantage point of the cloth moving|
|Poetry and pigeons|
|They release these pigeons at the end of the night|
|20 minutes before closing this singer comes out of the balcony and sings before they release the pigeons|
|pulleys and ropes from the swings in the rafters|
|Radios are in these paper bags that you can listen to and carry around, Kid was not impressed though|
Above a short clip of the cloth in motion. It was quite dreamy to lie under and watch all the shapes about to touch our noses.
"I can remember the feeling of swinging—how hard we would work for those split seconds, flung at furthest extension, just before the inevitable downward and backward pull, when we felt momentarily free of gravity, a little hiccup of suspension when our hands loosened on the chain and our torsos raised off the seat. We were sailing, so inside the motion—time stopped—and then suddenly rushed again toward us. We would line up on the playground and try to touch the sky, alone together." Ann Hamilton"Push me? Higher!"