Go Guggenhiem Tonight

I have a cold, and am lame, etc, so I will not be attending, but this day- (or night-) long free event at the Guggenhiem is jampacked with cool stuff. So if you’re free all tonight, or tommorow all day, definitely head out to the 24 Hour Program on the Concept of Time, based off the theanyspacewhatever exhibition.

“Comprising interviews, lectures, discussions, and performances, the 24-hour event will function as a platform for the presentation and exchange of ideas, research, and projects across a wide spectrum of fields, engaging diverse participants in vibrant, mutually illuminating dialogue. Modeled on the renowned thematic “marathons” conceived by Hans Ulrich Obrist, Co-Director of Exhibitions and Programmes and Director of International Projects at the Serpentine Gallery in London, this New York-based program organized by Guggenheim Chief Curator Nancy Spector will be conducted as a strenuous, experimental exercise geared toward both the academic and the general, art-going public.”

Stendhal Syndrome and the Uffizi

Where medicine and art align, from my friend Sarah (and the Wall Street Journal):

Stendhal Syndrome. The tendency to develop a rapid heartbeat, dizziness and hallucinations when exposed to great art seems like a great exit line for tired museum-goers. But it seems particularly prevalent in Florence, Italy. An Italian psychiatrist observed it in more than 100 visitors in the 1970s and named it after the French author, who described similar symptoms upon visiting Florence in 1817. More than 100 additional cases have been documented, including some in which a particular detail of a painting seemed to bring on acute anxiety. Effects are usually temporary.”

Anxiety like in Stendhal Syndrome isn’t the emotion I would have imagined a trip to some museum in Florence would impart, unless it was because of the crowds of tourists.

Florence is where I had one of my best museum experiences. I reserved a ticket in line exactly when the Uffizi opened on a Sunday. I was the first person in the U-shaped museum and rushed to the other end in a mad dash. Then I made my way through the galleries backwards, so methodically room by room I was alone with Rebramdts, Rubens, and Raphaels. It felt deliciously illegal and private–not at all anxiety inducing. Yet I kept looking over my shoulder expecting to see a guard or someone. My solitude lasted for one glorious wing, and then I met the crowd again in that wide corridor that overlooks the Arno. Those Medicis knew how to live–being alone with the foundations of the Western canon was incredible.

I wonder what sort of hallucination art would inspire in the case of Stendhal Syndrome. Would you get drawn into the world of the painting, or would they reach out to you from beyond the frame? If I had only had both wings of the museum to myself, I could probably tell you.

Papercut Recession Specials at Heist

Prominent price tags remind one of specials at Wal-Mart at Heist Gallery’s new exhibition Papercut. Mostly works on paper, the exhibition either looks like a college graduation show (as it is rather accomplished) or the cast-off sketches of artists capable of much bigger and more work intensive projects.

Chris Rubino, This Once Was an Island
In the current market though, art from a gallery for less than $100 is refreshing–let’s hope its a new trend. If Vogue can capture the charming possibilities offered to consumers at Target and Wal-Mart, why not let recently laid-off art collectors see the possibilities?

No doubt it’s all the more appealing at one of the owner Talia Eisenberg’s hip parties. Eisneberg says in an interview, “I have always believed, but even more so now during this economic predicament, art should be socially democratic and affordable for all. Not just for the socialite but for the socialist!”

All works come in a limited edition of 10. What could have sold as unique (well, almost unique) holiday presents are still hanging on the walls, so maybe the true art bargain shoppers out there should wait until those prominent price tags have sale written on them.