MoMA

i promised my aunt paula months ago i'd take her in to see the newly renovated modern museum of art in new york city for her birthday. today we hopped a train into the city and checked it out. we arrived and skipped the line around the block because i'd forked over five bucks to get the tickets online. so five bucks, well, ten for two tickets, bought us time, even though we didn't spend much more than a couple hours in the musuem. we first stepped into the sculpture garden, towered over by a cesar pelli skyscraper that was erected in the last renovation of the musuem.

the new renovation, by japanese architect yoshio taniguchi, has transformed the museum into a brand new space. even the sculpture garden, which i don't think changed at all, now feels completely different framed by two symmetrical and stoic ends. i didn't like the interior, however. instead of feeling awed by the vertiginous atriums i felt confused, awkward and uninvited. the materials are beautiful, stark and sometimes elegantly composed, but the overall effect left me non-plussed.

i think the best places in the museum are the occasional glances you get of the street. by their popularity, i think many agree. the museum somehow created the impression in me that the art was lifeless, disconnected, old and seeing life from above through a small break in the white monotony of the museum drew me and many others to glance out at the world for inspiration.

other really great spots were the bathroom hallways that, much like the fake hallways at versailles, or the entrance to willy wonka's factory, seem to get smaller and smaller as you move toward the toilet, perhaps representing the narrowing of focus as one prepares oneself for bathroom activity. i managed to catch the hallway here almost empty, but for most of my observation it was packed with people bumping shoulder bags and scuffing walls. i liked the way all the white acts like a hard fog making the only grounding reference the wooden floor and the exit sign on the ceiling a trap door to heaven.

due to the very slow nature of my camera/phone my aunt thought the picture had been taken here. she is frowning in front of a cezanne or pisarro. we had lunch at the "level five" cafe, on the fifth floor of the musuem, were seated outdoors on a patio overlooking the sculpture garden. i was impressed by how dirty the place looked already. new york has such amazing grit. our lunches were delicious.