I was extremely fascinated, and actually mesmerized, by Kenny Scharf’s Cosmic Closet installation at MoMA’s Club 57 exhibit. It is a psychedelic experience, overwhelming with bright colors, fluorescent lighting, and unfamiliar shapes. I appreciate this piece of art as a unstructured, flamboyant response to the austere art forms he grew up being taught to pursue. It is certainly unexpected and carries a physiological response that requires viewers to take a step back and adjust to their new environment. It is also contrasting to more traditional art forms because it makes ordinary objects, even ones that may be dysfunctioning, art. There is perhaps no setting better to create this experience than a nightclub. Although Scharf promotes this as art, Cosmic Closet undoubtedly takes roots in the nightclub scene. This fit into the greater scheme of the exhibit because it exemplifies the social nature of art in New York City. In a sense, Scharf is saying that art is a way for people to get together and enjoy. I respect that MoMA chose to capture a typically underrated and lesser-known scene of NY history, and am especially glad they included this particular piece.
Author Archives: Caitlin
Posts by Caitlin
Club 57
M. Butterfly
The use of Chinese performance interested me. I think it was important for Hwang to include the demonstration of Chinese art in the play as a stark contrast to European opera. It certainly challenged the audience to participate in a more unfamiliar art form. In a sense, it demanded the audience to evaluate their own racial and gender understandings of Eastern Asia. This was very clever on Hwang’s part. Furthermore, it was just eye-opening because it portrayed a type of art that is rarely seen by Broadway.
Another element of this revival that is important to address is the knowledge that viewers already have of Song’s actual background. When the production was first put on Broadway, the fact that Song Liling was a male disguised as a female must have been surprising to most viewers. Because the play has garnered such popularity since then, this must not have been as shocking for viewers the second time around. This situation was addressed in a redirection of surprise. The most shocking part of the story for me was Song’s compassion. His love for Gallimard, which was not prominent whatsoever in the first rendition, was made most evident in the final scene when Gallimard commits seppuku. Originally, Song stood to the side indifferently, but here, he actually approaches Gallimard and expresses intense sorrow over his suicide.
Visit # 2
In this photo, the upside-down ship that signifies the African Burial Ground is undergoing nearby construction. In essence, the landmark is changing. This scaffolding and the notion of changing monument reminds me that places have different meanings particular to the context they are in. The African Burial Ground has a deep, nestled history. It roots back to the time of slaves brought from Africa to New York City, was designated as a national historic landmark in the late 20th century, and now remains as a distinct piece of architecture, standing as an upside-down boat surrounded by a modern, busy, urban environment. Regardless of its long history, it is extremely relevant today. One of the reasons the grounds were allotted was to give African-Americans a larger and well-deserved voice in the narration of history. Time and time again, this group of people has been pushed to the side and given a side role. By preserving the excavated bodies and creating such a site, these slaves are made important in the events of the nation’s history. The notion of incorporating different racial groups into history is always pertinent, as evidenced by artistic works such as Hamilton and Moonlight and social movements such as Black Lives Matter. In New York City, promotion of racial equality and celebration is especially significant. The idea of change marked by the scaffolding in this photo sparked this area of interest.
Site Visit # 2
In this photo, the upside-down ship that signifies the African Burial Ground is undergoing nearby construction. In essence, the landmark is changing. This scaffolding and the notion of changing monument reminds me that places have different meanings particular to the context they are in. The African Burial Ground has a deep, nestled history. It roots back to the time of slaves brought from Africa to New York City, was designated as a national historic landmark in the late 20th century, and now remains as a distinct piece of architecture, standing as an upside-down boat surrounded by a modern, busy, urban environment. Regardless of its long history, it is extremely relevant today. One of the reasons the grounds were allotted was to give African-Americans a larger and well-deserved voice in the narration of history. Time and time again, this group of people has been pushed to the side and given a side role. By preserving the excavated bodies and creating such a site, these slaves are made important in the events of the nation’s history. The notion of incorporating different racial groups into history is always pertinent, as evidenced by artistic works such as Hamilton and Moonlight and social movements such as Black Lives Matter. In New York City, promotion of racial equality and celebration is especially significant. The idea of change marked by the scaffolding in this photo sparked this area of interest.
iMovie Site Visit 1
This photograph depicts a poem engraved on the wall of the upside-down ship at downtown Manhattan’s African Burial Ground. This four-line poem is brief, but powerful. The repetition and parallelism of “For those who” makes for a resonating, emphatic message. This poem was perhaps selected to be displayed because it promotes remembrance and embracing of the past, in which Africans were carted off unwillingly into slavery in America. It is also a way to remember those who died during this process, as the site is a burial ground.
On my first visit to this location, I learned about the controversial past of the excavation in which the General Services Administration wanted to build an industrial complex over the bodies that were discovered instead of turning the site into a historically important landmark. To me, this type of controversy is disappointing, as it is yet another example in which the past of African-Americans is overlooked or deemphasized.
The site is small and currently beneath scaffolding work, but it is beautiful. The water streams, the map of the world pervading the floor, the circular inscription of the retrieved bodies coalesce into one fluid, emotional architectural monument.
1996 Broadway Production of Buried Child
In my opinion, the 1996 production of Buried Child successfully captures the essence of Sam Shepard’s play. It accurately reflects his stage directions and dialogue and on a more thematic note, it conveys the themes and messages that Shepard intended to relay. For one, Shepard hoped to illustrate a dysfunctional American family that challenged the accepted notions of domestic, nuclear relations. From the first scene, only Vince is seen, engaging in a seemingly endless yelling match. The degradation and rasp in Hallie’s voice is essential to her character. The fact that she is not on stage shows how impersonal and destroyed their romance is and her insistence that Vince strain his voice demonstrates her lack of concern for his deteriorating health. Throughout the performance, the actors’ tones are consistently strained and angry and the set design is dark and gloomy. Dreariness is exuded in every portion of the play, mimicking Shepard’s morbid writing style. Furthermore, the concept of hiding behind a mysterious reality is exquisitely portrayed. Physically, characters are oftentimes hidden. Vince is buried beneath a blanket for most of the play, also going back to the overarching secret of a buried child. The secrets within and between the characters is evident; unknown facts of the past swirl the stage’s atmosphere, but most of them are never revealed, contributing to the production’s uncertainty. The question of what happened to Tilden in New Mexico, the possibilities surrounding Ansel’s potential, and the general motif of family secrets are exemplifying of the play’s distorted reality and sense of uncertainty.
Pina Bausch’s Cafe Muller and The Rite of Spring
As a dancer myself and lover of theater, I was fascinated by both of Bausch’s pieces. Although The Rite of Spring was a more conventional piece, it still had an absurd, modern element to it that truly speaks to Bausch’s theatrical ballet style. As an audience member, the pieces challenged me to see the bigger picture beyond the scenes taking place in the performance. For example, in Cafe Muller, I believe that Bausch wanted observers to think about power roles and interpersonal dependence of relationships. It would also have been important to understand the context, as Bausch partially grew up observing people interact in her parents’ cafe. The positioning on chairs on stage was interesting; the ability of the dancers to accommodate their choreography to these moving set pieces was also impressive. Furthermore, in The Rite of Spring, there was certainly the question as to why Bausch chose to put soil on the floor and emphasize this red dress. To compare the two, Cafe Muller was much more abstract, with its repetitive movements, unorthodox bodily throwing, and overall discombobulation. There was lack of unity amongst the dancers. Meanwhile, in The Rite of Spring, dancers were typically unified, whether it was by group, sex, or attire color. The movements were much more fluid and traditional and the dancers took on roles more typically associated with their sex. For instance, men typically lifted women. However, it was still unorthodox in that there was nudity. Although contemporary audiences tend to accept this, a woman stepping out of her gender role in a classical ballet piece would have been viewed as offensive or crude.
Sept. 12th – The Highline
I selected this photo to advertise New York City’s famous Highline as a museum space as opposed to the park space it is typically promoted as. One of the major critiques against this spot is its most recently established function in contrast to its original intention. Built as a park to capture the traditional style of railways and the modern feel of NYC architecture and to welcome New Yorkers from all backgrounds, the Highline is now often identified as an upper class, Greenwich Village hang-out spot and prime location for luxurious, corporate development. This photo exhibits the Highline as this more critical interpretation. Even according to John Berger in Ways of Seeing, museums have become a place for the affluent. This photo conveys the Highline as a museum, as it depicts a label and description of Alexandra Pirici’s artwork. The ongoing construction in the back and endless scaffolds signal the building of more real estate. The geometry of the objects in the photo (buildings, windows, rectangular sign) also takes away from the natural feel that is usually associated with the Highline. It has truly taken on an elitist element in this sense.
This is not to dismiss its aesthetic value and disregard its clear acceptance of all people. The Highline’s emerging status as a kind of “museum” also indicates its statement of public display. It is for everyone to view. Even those who are not physically aboard the Highline can view it. For example, people down below or observing from the Whitney Museum’s outdoor gallery, can also see it. However, this also establishes the Highline as a tourist attraction. As someone who has been here many times, the crowdedness of the public space on a weekend or hot day can make it feel touristy and unappealing as opposed to open and welcoming.
Comments by Caitlin
"I agree with the intrigue and challenge of both of these elements of M. Butterfly. Firstly, I concur that the scenery was very simple and revealing. It was essential to viewers' understanding of the setting. However, because it was so simple, it was a bit underwhelming. The repetitive use of these huge rectangular blocks was always expected and never shockingly good. Secondly, the nudity of the play was certainly challenging. The fact that Song Liling, a man dressed as a woman, stripped fully naked, reminded me of the concept of gender construction in society. People may be born with specific reproductive organs and given one of two sexes, but how they express their own gender is completely separate. This play is, without a doubt, a doubt of the gender binary."--( posted on Nov 20, 2017, commenting on the post M. Butterfly: A Madama Butterfly Adaptation )
"I completely agree with this post. I've only visited Roosevelt Island and rode the tram once. However, it's quite a memorable experience, as its tranquility and isolation stand ins stark contrast to the rush and business of Manhattan. I like that you plan to include interviews with strangers in your video; it provides intimacy with the location and gives others' perspectives on the sight. The photo you took is also a testament to the "dreariness" of Manhattan you speak of."
--( posted on Nov 3, 2017, commenting on the post Roosevelt Island Tram )
"I love this photo!!! As a resident of Brooklyn, I live a 20 minute train ride from Coney Island and went to middle school just a few blocks from there. As a result, I visited Coney Island countless times in my childhood, whether it was to ride the now overpriced carnival rides, lie down on the sand beside friends, or traverse the boardwalk towards Brighton Beach. Rarely have I been to Coney Island when it was empty; this photo presents a stark contrast to my experiences. Furthermore, the sight has always been a source of fun and hanging out; I have never absorbed Coney Island as an artistic or public space so it will be interesting to see how your group makes a video out of this place."
--( posted on Oct 23, 2017, commenting on the post An Early Morning in Coney Island )
"I agree that the positioning of the dancers, particularly Cafe Muller, was particularly notable. (Note: Bausch was not actually featured in the dance. Although she played that mysterious role when she was alive, she died in 2009 and this part has been fulfilled by other dancers from her company ever since.) The above "scene" mentioned in which the male and female dancer repeatedly embrace was perhaps one of the defining and most captivating moments of the performance. Furthermore, colors were certainly important in The Rite of Spring. Red is naturally a bold color and the fact that there was emphasis on this one dress and one girl challenged the audience to question its significance."
--( posted on Sep 22, 2017, commenting on the post Pina Bausch’s Cafe Muller and The Rite of Spring )
"I also stopped to view this sculpture and had the same interpretation! This piece of art, meant to convey meaning about unquestioning absorption of modern-day media, is a signal for its viewers to stop looking at their phones and glance up at the natural beauty of the Highline. The muted colors featured in the photo support your idea that this sculpture is a source of distress and peace. Additionally, the circular shape brings harmony to the art's meaning and the photo itself. I think it is actual ideal that this picture does not include any people or external elements as it reflects the art's desire for viewers to focus on one thing, as opposed to the multidirectional nature of media."
--( posted on Sep 10, 2017, commenting on the post The Highline )
