The land of milk and honey

Hey, I'm in New York City! On vacation! Which is why I'm not posting my usual 3-4 posts, 5 days a week - sorry about that, but hey, I'm out living, man.

Of note: we went to the Whitney Museum's Summer of Love exhibit, and it was actually surprisingly interesting. I say "surprisingly" because the articles and press releases I read made it sound pretty cheesy while at the same time attempting to overstate its impact:

"You can experience the 60s and what it might have been taking LSD without actually having to resort to the drug," [curator Christoph Grunenberg] said.

I wouldn't go that far myself. However, there were some really nice historical photos, some very entertaining short films and video displays, an awesome room with tin foil walls and strobe lighting and crazy psychedelic music, and all kinds of neat posters and paintings that added together definitely made me nostalgic for a time period I missed completely. Let's be clear - I think I would have made a terrible hippie, but I sure wouldn't have minded being at some of those happenings with the elaborate light shows and wild dancing. (And don't ask me what museum dose of which drug I would recommend for the exhibit, because I won't tell you.)

We also made our way to Alex Grey's Chapel of Sacred Mirrors, which didn't exist the last time I was in NYC. The painting featured above, Bardo Being, is perhaps my new favorite Grey painting, although it's always outstanding to be in the presence of the Sacred Mirrors themselves, and really, you never appreciate how impressive and effective these works are until you see something like Journey of the Wounded Healer in all its wall-sized glory. Admittedly, I teeter right on the edge of being too cynical to appreciate Grey's overall underlying themes, but holy moly, his work sure his pretty to look at.

But honestly, the trippiest exhibit I've seen so far was at the Museum of Modern Art, where sculptor Richard Serra has a display of gigantic steel works that are frankly mind-bending. If you can imagine a towering, curving labyrinth constructed out of huge, bent steel plates that lean at seemingly crazy angles... well, don't take my word for it, but instead, check out this video walkthrough of the pieces:

Perhaps the most sublime experience I've had here so far, however, was at a Top Sekrit speakeasy, a literal hole in the wall but elegantly decked out with classic booths and intimate lighting. The premise is simple: you don't order specific drinks. Instead, you give your dapperly dressed waiter some general parameters, and he wanders off for a while; then he returns with a concoction sprung from his imagination or his encyclopedic understanding of the world of cocktails. As you order your second round, you're dancing with him, trying to be more precise about what style you're looking for, while at the same time daring him to surprise you. Everyone at the table eagerly awaits his explanation of the sometimes delicate, sometimes intense recipes on display, and everyone shares their drinks around. By the third round, you're all playing the same game, and the drinks are beyond heavenly. It's a variation on omakese, performed by the bartending elite. I can hardly wait to go back.

Anyway, sorry to leave you high and dry for a week, dear blog, but I needed a vacation, and there are still more museums to visit. I'll be back writing regularly at some point late next week. I would send you a postcard, but you live on the internet and it would probably just get caught in a spam filter.

Love,
Scotto