Feather-Brains & Galleristas
An outdoor pillowfight and an indoor art exhibit focusing on California offer ways to warm up from February's bitter winds.

What: NewMindSpace's Pillowfight and LA Art
Location: Union Square and the Metropolitan Pavilion
Date: 2/24/2007
Cost: Pillowfight is free; LA Art is $10
Bohemian Factor: Through the roof at the pillow fight; only the most well-to-do Bohemians at the art exhibition/sale.
Geek Factor: Ditto

Stress, travel, deadlines….and repeat! Two weeks ago, when – over the course of 14 days I had been in Istanbul, Prague, New York, Minneapolis…and back to New York again…I found myself waking one early Saturday morning on wondering exactly which time zone it was.

Vowing to make the most out of the weekend, despite jet lag and yet another deadline, I was able to take a detour at one of a squillion art exhibitions that are taking over lower Manhattan: “LA Art in New York” in the Metropolitan Pavilian, and, at an admission price of $10, one of the less expensive ones, small enough to see most of in an hour or so. (More about that to follow)

In case that wasn’t enough procrastination, however, NewMindSpace was there to save the day with another one of their Pillow Fights at Union Square. While there hasn’t exactly been a scarcity of such impulses to revert to childhood, it was nice-in contrast to last fall’s event – to let the feathers fly without any hyper-eroticized pictures of naked women or the pressure to remain poised in the presence of SoHo’s glitterati (and really, who wants to stay composed in a pillow fight, anyway?)

While the demographic was definitely a younger crowd (more NYU backpacks than one can shake a pillow at) I was greatly bemused to find that the groups on either side of me were speaking German, respectively, and Russian. If they were indeed tourists, I couldn’t help but think the event captures an aspect of NYC that is rarely accessible to visitors on their way to the more costly Manhattan circus attractions of SoHo, Empire State Building, Broadways Show, ad nauseam.

I can't begin to wonder what unknowing pedestrians might have concluded, glimpsing small tempests of feathers whirling around outside the Union Square Whole Foods for the rest of the day.

But some stories are better told visually, so:








The vendors at LA Art hadn’t traveled nearly as far, but certainly had commerce on the brain. Outside of the convenience of being able to view trendy young artists not far from me for free in the Chelsea galleries, I find the overheated art market interesting primarily because of the personality types it has tossed together in the usual Manhattan stew of hedge fund managers, dealers, hipster MFA graduates, publicists and Park Avenue old money. The influx of California art-types made the whole mélange just more interesting, and made for some interesting people-watching in addition to art viewing. (The conversations between locals looking to expand their collections, and LA gallery owners was endlessly instructive, often beginning with social niceties on east coast vs. west coast cultures, and then diving delicately into matters of the artist’s talents, their soon-to-be-soaring careers, and of course, money.)

For better or worse, I was just there to avoid getting sucked in to such transactions, with the exception of a few owners kind enough to chat about an artist and answer questions, while recognizing –without batting an eyelash – that, I did not have the look or the talk of a potential buyer. (I barely even remember what “formalism” is, truth be told) Should I ever find myself graduating from non-profiteer to a profession where I might have actual purchasing power, this is who I would keep my eye on:

Though none of her buyers may be able to pronounce her name, the “absorbent ground” technique of Iva Gueorguieva introduced translucent swirls, spatters, tendrils and waves that could be either a sea of psychological suggestions, for those who like to see abstract art as a Rorschach test, and a feast for the eye for those would rather not go there. Equally adventurous in throwing everything – literally – into the kitchen sink when it comes to color, texture and form were the loopy sculptures of Lynn Aldrich, made out of garden hoses, sponges, scrubbers and various cleaning instruments.

I’m not sure what an “archival pigment photo” is, but the haunting images of tree stumps captured by Amir Zaki gave me the willies, speaking of psychological suggestion.

Peter Rogier’s lemon-yellow “Broadway” was an attention grabber, and I could tell I was not the only one he wondered how that dancing man depicted managed to defy gravity, being made from polyester, iron and polyurethane varnish, whatever that is.

This being LA, it made sense that there was a lot of multimedia-digital-ish items, art inspired by comic strips and cartoons, and heavy use of text and lettering. Raphael Lazano-Hemmer’s “Extremities” made interesting use of security cameras; Charlie Roberts’ “Tall Tale” had even the most icily distant buyers stopping in their tracks to figure out what the story was all about, a banjo player on some kind of lusty adventure in a mythical Americana; and the work of Jorge Mendez Blake, which - though not one for aesthetics- certainly knows how to create a despairing image in the viewers mind.

The sloping letters on his work “And Over He Went” state:
“But for all his efforts
he could not get his
balance & over he went”

I know the feeling, Jorge. It’s good to know there’s angst west of the Mississippi.