the first weekend

Friday night after a day where I experienced my first New York City bagel at a place called simply, "Beygl", and got lost in Prospect Park, twice, I went to the High Line. The High Line is an old elevated subway track no longer in use that has been transitioned to a tourist and local favorite along the west side. One, because it's free, and two, because it's beautiful, giving a rare perspective of walking the streets of New York, only three stories up. Running through Chelsea and Hell's Kitchen, I didn't know where to turn my head as I walked, walking north there's the glistening Hudson river and New Jersey to my left, and to the right, the tall buildings and zooming taxis of the city. It isn't just a place to walk though, there were people tanning on lawn chairs, vendors selling lemonade and pretzels, and people commuting, it's a pleasant change of pace from walking the streets.

After walking down the stairs from the High Line I stumbled upon a free art gallery, with prints of old Hollywood actresses. Audrey Hepburn made over to look like a geisha, a Marilyn Monroe triptych, among others. The space, like I believe many of the galleries and art shows are in New York have large open air rooms, with brick layer backdrops and piping hanging above head on the ceiling. I saw the artist, or what looked like the artist, in skin tight black jeans, hopping around from patron to patron. He was the spitting image of an early Bob Dylan, curly black hair, circular sunglasses. The dingy space was furnished with a black and white piano, and a drum set, neither being used, an abandoned recording studio left to deteriorate, a stage lacking an audience.

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Everything that I had done on Friday I did on a whim, with no plans and no real place to go I just went where the heavy winds of the city took me. For Saturday, I determined to take advantage of what was happening in New York RIGHT NOW. What I mean by that is, every day in New York City, a restaurant is opening, and some local favorite is closing, an artist is removing his pieces from a space so a new exhibit can come into existence. It's all apart of the ebb and flow of the city, the sights change suddenly, sometimes drastically. Especially in the case of the century-old Domino Sugar Refinery in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. 

Kara Walker is one of the most important and well respected artists of the late twentieth century. Dealing with subjects and images of race, identity and sexuality in her works, ranging from cut out silhouettes, to musical compositions, to the current sculpture and installations located in the decaying Domino Sugar Factory. The building and its surrounding area are located in South Williamsburg, along the East River in what is now prime, up and coming territory for the ever gentrifying and transforming Brooklyn. The factory is to be destroyed, and turned into what most likely will be luxury condominiums, and commercial retail stores. 

Much of the power of the exhibit called "A Subtlety" comes from the not very subtle central structure, a massive, white, Mammy-looking character positioned as a sphinx. A contrasting image of the willing and happy slave of Jim Crow history with the size and power and strength of an ancient Egyptian artifact. You cannot tell whether she is opening her eyes with blazing intensity or closing them in submission. Throughout the building there are other small sculptures, little half-smiling boys holding baskets, or a bunch of bananas. Each of these were made using sugar (molasses or resin), even the sphinx (along with other materials). As the exhibit has gone on, many of the small five foot little boys have either melted, or collapsed, slowing deteriorating as the sun has been hitting them each day. All of this is a comment on not only the building, and its eventual destruction, but also on America's history with sugar, and specifically the African American's experience. 

It truly was a spectacle to see, and also quite absurd seeing the many tourists who waited 30 minutes to enter, taking pictures in front of the structures, smiling, even laughing at its explicitness. Maybe they were appreciating the novelty and strangeness of the art rather than trying instead to understand the work's meaning. Regardless of the immediate experience, I am glad I got the opportunity to see it before it goes away, as well as the factory in which its located. It is events like these throughout New York, free, unique, and open to the public that you just don't get anywhere else, and its an exhibit whose images I surely won't forget anytime soon.

I'll conclude with some pictures from my daily excursions to Prospect Park.