The Whitney Museum just opened at the start of the High Line in the meatpacking district.
This replica of the artist had autobiographical statements written all over it such as the intersesting tidbit that Indian penises are colorful. Somehow I doubt that they tend to be yellow, orange and blue.
I was strangely drawn to this tapestry of discarded stuffed animals and soft dolls.
A tower of televisions created a kaleidoscope of color and pattern.
Pollock
Hopper
A circus made mostly of wire.
Lights in the stairwell.
While we did enjoy half of the art (and didn't understand the other half) the best part was really the outside terraces overlooking the High Line and the Hudson.
I look like I'm happy but I was nervous. Some of the areas jut out without any suspension and the platforms were metal grates with openings that you can see through as you stand many flights above the ground. Nerve wracking at times but I did go out on every level to check out the view. Why am I more afraid of heights as I get older? And to think that I have enjoyed a hot air balloon ride over mountains in Colorado! That's even higher…in a basket…held aloft by air! Nonsensical.
At one point we looked down on a line that was forming around the block. It turns out that every Friday night after 7:00 you can pay at will rather than the $22 per person price tag we paid at 6:00pm.
Of all our shots, this is my favorite. Looks like someone wasn't enjoying the art nor the view.
No comments:
Post a Comment