Consider this a temporary reprieve from another post about Hungarian art. For a change of pace and scenery, check out my belated video chronicaling my trip to the High Museum of Art in Atlanta, Georgia, its lukewarm exhibitions and its nice developing collection of contemporary art.
There’s more on Richard Misrach here.
And yes, exhibitions can be described as lukewarm…I just can’t think of another adjective right now…they’re all being used on this stupid attempt at a novel.
Stupid novel.
I braved the rain this past Friday to stand in line for tickets to see the first play of the Public Theater’s Shakespeare in the Park season, Twelfth Night. The experience both of getting tickets and seeing the play is unique. As I suggest in the video, the play is easily worth the process–I waited for tickets for only 3 hours!
I lucked out with clear skies and a faithful, delightful performance that had the audience laughing every other minute. The acting and the music was excellent, as I hope you can see in the video. Unfortunately, the Ravels in Motion crew is not used to shooting at night (and I was more interested in the play, to be honest) but hopefully you get enough of an idea to get in line at 8 AM in the upcoming weeks and see it for yourself.
Did I mention tickets were free? Anne Hathaway can sing? It’s on the lake at Central Park?
Image via Wooster CollectiveFor a weekly recap, I’ll start with the best: the video I made about Whole in the Wall, a street art exhibit, although I did have to correct something I said in the video by noting some great street art blogs. In second place, inspired by a discussion about Francis Bacon, I was excited to see and write about his retrospective at the Met. Then yesterday I tried to explain why the film The Queen put me off with it mix of fact and fiction.
And then a long time ago, when it was May, we touched on some Vermeer forgeries via Errol Morris’s series of articles Bamboozling Ourselves. All 7 are now published, if you want to check out the full tale. I also got on my high horse about a poetry scandal in Britain. But that was long ago in May.
Now it’s June, and so I expect the weather will cease and desist with this dreary, cold rain. I keep giving it stern glances out the window.
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