Spring is here in New York City and that means art fairs and film screenings and getting drunk at various bars and cafes. It does not mean consistently warmer weather. No, it doesn’t mean that. This past Sunday I spent a blustery, but not outright freezing day, checking out the first bright rays of art offered on a grand scale here in the city.
Just so you know I didn’t get drunk this past weekend, but there will be others. Soon.

The Whitney Museum has it’s yearly biennial up. It is so shitty and politically dissonant I could hardly believe the mostly paying crowd (I got in free) wasn’t lining up demanding their money back. There is a recession going on so money must be tight to waste on a poorly curated hyper-self conscious art show? Fo Sho, though grumbles of disappointment and guffaws of derision could be heard no mass protest materialized-except in my imagination. Had, I paid money, I would have wanted it back.
I can’t be bothered to give much detail than that, because I can’t re-live the boredom, other than to say that one single video in the entire three floors of “art” was a truly brilliant work of art-that was a video by Harry (Harriet) Dodge and Stanya Kahn called Can’t Swallow It, Can’t Spit It Out. The New York Times art critic, Holland Cotter (who was a tad too generous regarding the entire show if you ask me) described it as, “a kind of lunatic’s tour of an abject and empty Los Angeles.” I’d agree with that but it was also brilliant performance work on both the video artist’s parts. Look it up. It’s worth it. If you care to subject yourself to it it will be on view until June 1st. Or, you can read the Times‘ overly diplomatic review and be done with it.

The Armory Show, on the other side of town, and hand as it were, was an amalgamation of wise investments coupled with zero curatorial finesse. Truly brilliant work had to mix company with “Inter-disciplinary Art 101″ bullshit, and quite pricey bullshit at that. Unlike the Whitney Museum you could take as many photos as you liked. You could also purchase the art on view. A Brad Kahlhamer print sold through the Deitch Project was quite pricey indeed. Actually I really did want one of his creepy vaguely Indian-esque crack whore strewn water color and pencil prints, but who has $10,000? Certainly not me.
For a selection of the good and bad (I leave the judging of what is which to you) visit our gallery page.

(Photos from this series: copyright M. Colon)