Art, Soho and trashy souvenirs

Starting with Thursday and working up to today...

Had lunch with Erin on Thursday at this little Indian place near the school where she teaches. I walked her back there afterwards, and she took me inside and showed me around, the corridors, the classrooms. I'll say it again - just like on TV. After that I wandered down to the Met (the Metropolitan Museum of Art) to check that out. I was trying to work out the difference between a museum and a gallery, but apparently the terms here are interchangeable. They mean the same thing. I always thought a gallery was for art, a museum for dinosaur bones. So I went to the Met. Huge, massive building, reall beautiful inside and out, and right on the park, you kind of wander out from the trees and it's right there on 'Museum Mile'. They have a special exhibition on right now of superhero costumes and the fashion that is inspired by it. So they had a whole lot of really cool costumes - Iron Man's real one (the actual one worn in the film), and Catwoman and Superman and the new Batman and the blue chick from X-Men who John Stamos' ex-wife played, her costume too. And then all the high fashion couture shit next to it. I know these things aren't necessarily meant to be worn, that they're just as costume-like as the costumes themselves, but goddamn. Why? Pants are pants and should have cylinders, right? So that your legs can go in them? Not weird angles and shoulderpads on your knees and a little cuckoo clock where your zipper should be. Shut up.

I saw lots of old European art, baby Jesus and Mary were around a lot, very popular those two. The modern stuff was really cool though, the Picassos and the Pollocks yada yada yada. Love just being around crazy shit like that, it makes you think more or something. Wanker!

That night I went to see Iron Man at the movies. Well. I bought the ticket ok, no dramas there. I thought I'd get some popcorn and a Coke. I forget that 'large' here means, like, human-sized, so the large popcorn and Coke (which ordinarily I could probably get close to finishing, especially if I was in a fattyfatfat mood and/or hungry and/or just fat) was RIDICULOUS. I'm talking a paper grocery bag-sized thing of popcorn and a Coke the size of a KFC bucket of chicken. So I'm trying to juggle this grocery bag and this bucket of soda, and of course, because I don't know the order of things, I didn't realise there was a 'bar' to the side, where one could add butter/caramel/salt to your popcorn, and where you also picked up your napkins and straws. So I'm so preoccupied trying to get to the cinema and take my seat without dropping shit that I don't realise I'm straw-less until I've sat down. That's fine, whatever, I'll just take off the lid and drink from the cup/bucket. So I sit in the second last row, thinking that this will be the best place for me to not be seen by anyone - everyone will sit in front of me, therefore won't see how I'm trying to eat all this popcorn and slurp all this Coke without a straw. Except EVERYONE sits in the row behind me. So I'm alone, in the second last row, everyone behind me, everyone looking at and judging me. I was pretty good for the most part, I think, I managed to not spill any Coke or drop too much popcorn. I was very self-conscious for the whole film, though. Of course, I only managed to drink about a litre and a half of Coke, so it was still pretty full by the end - I would've taken it home with me except I had no straw and no lid, so I had to leave it there. The next morning I woke up with the most terrible popcorn hangover. You know how it is. Salty salty popcorn slowly sucks all the moisture from your body overnight so that when you wake in the morning you're all shrivelled and prune-like and your head feels like it's been sat on a lot. I kinda stumbled through the morning, slowly regaining consciousness. Then went to the MoMA.

The Museum of Modern Art is, as the name suggests, ALL modern art. It was fuckin sweet. I loved it so much. Six floors of wanky modern art, large-scale light installations, video installations, everything. It was ace. There was a special exhibition on there, too, called Take Your Time - the main foyer of which was lit by flourescent yellow lights (see picture). The photo doesn't really do it justice, but basically, the effect of the light made everything - your vision - black and white. It was fuckin weird. You came up the escalators into a colourless world. People walked past you in grey, their faces and clothes grey. It was like those photos you see where the saturation has been removed entirely. It was so scary. And then you'd see into the next room, lit normally, all bright and colourful, but your own arm is till grey. Spooky spooky, but everyone was loving it!

In the foyer they have this massive void in the air, going up about three or four floors, so it's like a big air tunnel thing with balconies you can look out into it from (was that even a sentence?) and hanging in there is this installation, a big fan, like a fan you use in Summer to cool yourself with, on a big rope, swinging around and around. Watch the video below. Hilarious. I don't think the kid is part of it, though I wish he was.

They had a whole lot of Andy Warhol stuff, all the soup cans the a Marilyn and a Mao, and a room of Pollocks (some of the same 'group' of ones that the Met has). It was so weird seeing the 'real' ones, up close and personal. This image, especially, the Marilyn one, is so famous. I guess that's the point.

Part of the permanent exhibition includes architecture and design, so they have a whole floor of modern furniture and stuff - a giant plastic bag that folds up into a bumbag that homeless people can unpack, wrap one end around a vent coming out of a building, and it inflates into a little bubble house to sleep in overnight. Crazy chairs made of bubbles, chaise lounges made of wire, walls made of felt, lamps in the shape of pills - really '21st century', modern stuff. It's all a bit fun, really. Particularly when you read the 500 word explanation and realise that someone has a very real justification for making this stuff.


After the MoMA, I went for a wander down that end of town, said my goodbyes to 5th Avenue etc. I went to the New York Public Library (I had total Sex and the City movie flashbacks!) and then via the Empire State to Grand Central Station (left), which was fuckin beautiful. It's like the entrance hall to a palace or a museum or something, massive high ceiling all painted and lots of beautiful chandeliers. People running everywhere, of course, total chaos, particularly at 6pm or whatever time it was when I got there. The Empire State is kind of to one side of it, so there's this beautiful photo op with the two of them together.

Nice night last night, just chilling at the hostel. I finally realised that this place has a kitchen, buried in the dungeon, so made myself some pot noodles and read my book on the terrace (also a new discovery - who would've though having a bit of an explore could yield so many benefits??) and chatted to some other people. Very civilised and lovely. There was a DJ playing in the foyer, but everyone just looked too fucked to even consider dancing or hip-hopping or doing the rap or whatever it is you're meant to do with a DJ. Wiped out.

Today I got the Subway down to Chinatown and wandered through the street markets in Soho, looking for tacky souvenirs that are about a fifth of the price that they are in Times Square. Cheapskate much? Came back up into midtown walking through Greenwich Village and Chelsea. So many arty faggy wanky people ... it was like being back in Melbourne! It's a lovely area, the village, it's very green and quiet and chilled. There was a big Indian food and culture festival going on, which was cool to wander through and get free watermelon from. This crazy white lady had an argument with an African American woman about something - whitey was yelling about there being seven-foot hookahs (as in, water pipes/nargiles, not Pretty Woman) over on the East side, and what kind of American was that, what kind of Christian consciousness was that, where was God, huh, that wouldn't have happened in '96! Then the black lady told her to come back over here so I can throw paint all over you, I can paint your whole face! Lady. HAH! In the markets, I overheard this lady - and you have to say this out loud in your thickets, strongest New York cliche accent, because that's how it was delivered - on the phone to someone, and she said, "Look, I'm sure it looks nice, but I just can't see you in a dog collar, sweetheart!". Mother to daughter? Wife to husband? Wife to wife? Master to slave? Interesting.

Heat/humidity has crept back up today. Heading upstairs now to pack my clothes ready for 11am checkout tomorrow. Sunburn is peeling, I look like I have leprosy. Considering the state of the shower this morning, I probably do have leprosy. I did manage to get a pair of thongs and a t-shirt today, though, from Old Navy - eight dollars! Very exciting. Old Navy is like classy Target, H&M is nicer still - bought me some pyjama pants there yesterday. I love that place so much. It's why I'm going back to Europe, pretty much.

Krista, another Interplay girl, who also lives in NY, has just got back into town and has invited me to a party in Brooklyn tonight, hosted by her friends who are video installation artists. I'm really keen to go, but I don't know whether I'm going to be able to get back up here to 103rd. I'm having a Miranda moment - to Brooklyn or not to Brooklyn? Only time will tell...

xd

PS. I have photos but for some reason only some of them want to upload. I don't know anymore. Use your imagination, cut out pictures from magazines and put my face on the bodies, it's really all exactly as you imagine it to be. There are heaps more from Salvation Mountain at my flickr account, www.flickr.com/photos/dangiovannoni/sets .

PPS. I don't know if I told you - I went to and ate at the Seinfeld diner! The real one! Tom's Restaurant! I took a photo from the front, you can actually SEE IT. It's all different inside, obviously, because it wasn't shot there, but the outside! I had lunch there, too, a wrap and fries and a soda. Tiiiight. (For the record, 'tight' is hip American slang for 'cool'. It's like 'fetch' for 2008. I say it because I want to FEEL American, y'know? I want to BE one of these people. Same reason I'm invading Iraq tomorrow, and eating grilled cheese right now. Too much? Pfft.)