Hidden Iranian Gems at The Met

Contemporary Iranian Art installation at The Met with Tanavoli’s sculpture and Farmanfarmaian’s mirrored glass mosaic.

You really don’t expect to find stunning contemporary art works way, way back in a remote corner of the Islamic Art wing, and you really don’t expect to see new, sparkly stuff from Iran. Surprise!

Once you make your way back on the second floor, past the 13th century enameled and gilded glass from Syria, you’ll spy a secluded gallery with shimmering light. It’s Parviz Tanavoli’s dramatic Sufi-inspired sculpture at the center and Flight of the Dolphin, a mirrored mosaic by Iran’s most famous female artist casting its magic.

Monir Shahroudy Farmanfarmaian, who made the mirrored mosaic, is probably Iran’s best-known female artist. In 1944, she studied in New York at Cornell and Parsons and got to know art-world luminaries like Pollack, Stella, and Warhol. It changed her life and her art, as you’ll hear in this video shot inside the gallery by ArtAsiaPacific.

Detail of Still Garden (2011) by Afruz Amighi.

Last weekend, the tiny show enjoyed a steady stream of visitors. Most were captivated by another truly remarkable piece – Afruz Amighi’s Still Garden. The closer you get to the wall-size hanging, the more amazement you’ll have. Afruz has cut intricate patterns into thin polyester fabric that’s commonly used to construct refugee tents and has projected white light through it. The light-shadow play inches behind have a mesmerizing effect that you just have to experience in person.

Although everything’s now in the Met’s permanent collection, it’s worth making the journey through the Arab Lands upstairs and experience the light from Iran at the end.

Weegee’s New York Nights, Gangster-Style

Weegee, With Bomb, 1940. © Weegee/International Center of Photography.

See for yourself if much has changed in New York since the late 1930s, when Weegee worked the night beat, listening on the police-band radio for unfolding action, zeroing in on lurid murders, capturing the stares of bystanders, and doggedly getting the photo-story every night.

Check out the final days of the exhibition Weegee: Murder is My Business to see plenty of action. Weegee (Arthur Fellig) slept in a cold-water flat across from Police Headquarters downtown and sold his photos to one of twelve dailies published in the City in the late 1930s. He tried to “humanize” the news, so lots of the photos in the show feature reactions of bystanders to sensational crimes and scenes of mayhem.

The show occupies most of the International Center of Photography’s lower level, and is filled with a recreation of Weegee’s room, his camera equipment, flash bulbs, press passes, and terrific interactive displays that bring you closer to one New York’s great documentarians of the Thirties and Forties. There’s even a set of photos of a gangster rub-out alongside the actual police crime ledger that documents what happened in Little Italy that night.

Installation view of Weegee’s flat. © International Center of Photography, 2012. Photograph by John Berens.

Maybe the curators are having fun with us, but it’s interesting that there’s a slightly out-of-the-way wall of Weegee photos of cross-dressers being arrested in 1939 alongside a gallery of 19th-century images of Jefferson Davis in a dress (President in Petticoats!), and another gallery with Christer Strömholm’s gorgeous shots of the early Sixties “ladies” working the Place Blanche in Paris.

It’s all sensational(istic) and Weegee would approve.

Christer Strömholm, Belinda, 1967. © Christer Strömholm/Strömholm Estate.

Museum as Model with Temple and Condo Plans

Did you miss the Francesca Woodman show at the Guggenheim? You can catch one of her spectacular pieces at the Met in the small contemporary photography exhibit, Spies in the House of Art.

Francesca Woodman’s Blueprint for a Temple, 1980. Diazo collage. Gift of George and Betty Woodman to the Metropolitan Museum, 2001.

The show features works by photographers, filmmakers, and video artists inspired by museums, collections, and exhibitions. The standout (Cindy Sherman’s Italian history portrait notwithstanding) is the epic piece by Woodman:  the large-scale Blueprint for a Temple made up of 29 photographs on blueprint paper. The piece uses live models as caryatids and everyday stuff to evoke classical architecture, and it’s an experience.

The Met’s also given over a large, dark exhibition area to show Rosalind Nashashibi and Lucy Skaer’s film shot with strobes late at night when the Met’s ancient-art halls look particularly magical and spooky. Perhaps the most startling aspect of the installation is the medium. We’ve become accustomed to digital projection, but this experience is enhanced by the sight and sound of a 16mm film loop clicking through a 16mm projector.

For some fun, be sure to sit down, put on the headsets, and listen in to Andrea Fraser’s 1989 fictional museum walk that’s also part of the show. And check out Peter Nagy’s 1985 work done when there was a citywide kerfuffle over the MoMA’s plans to renovate (remember that?). Nagy layers condominium floor plans over the old layout of the MoMA galleries. It’s hilarious.

380-Year Old Dutch Girl Plays House

When the Brooklyn Museum invited four artists into their period rooms for Playing House, who knew that one would be channeling her own family history, complete with her ancestors’ dramatic flight to America over 380 years ago and a tribute to the first girl in her family born in New Amsterdam?

Mary Lucier’s video Still Life #1 atop the table inside the 1675 Jan Martense Schenck House in the Brooklyn Museum

Mary Lucier created a compelling multipart installation above, around, and inside the Jan Martense Schenck House (1675), which stood in Brooklyn for about 275 years and is currently the oldest “home” in the gallery. Lucier evokes the 1572 persecution of the Huguenots in Europe through a clip from D.W. Griffith’s Intolerance overhead, and invites visitors to sit in a modern replica of an old Dutch chair to watch a slide presentation about the Rapaljie family – a story that also happens to be her own.

The chronology takes you graphically from the religious wars in Europe to a 19-year old couple who escaped, to their colonization of Albany in 1624, and to the 1625 birth of their daughter Sara at their homestead in Wallabout Bay (now the Brooklyn Navy Yard). Lucier’s video installation inside the older Schenck house evokes New Amsterdam; her transformation of his grandson Nicholas’s house (right next door in the gallery) depicts the faces and stories of Sarah’s over one million current descendants 380 years later.

Take a look at my Flickr feed to glimpse installations by Lucier, Ann Agee, Ann Chu, and Betty Woodman. Then go to Brooklyn’s site to see all four at work installing their art in the period rooms.

When the 1675 Jan Martense Schenck House stood in Brooklyn. From the digital archive of the Brooklyn Museum of Art

If you have time, browse through Brooklyn’s digital archive for the Schenck house and what it took to get it installed inside the museum in 1971.

Eavesdropping on Schiaparelli, Prada, and Iris

Don’t despair if you haven’t gotten to the Met’s Costume Institute show Schiaparelli and Prada: Impossible ConversationsThe Met’s put up a spectacular web site that lets you in behind the scenes, around the dining table, and inside the head of everyone’s favorite fashion icon, Iris Apfel.

If you get to the gallery this week before the show ends, expect large crowds (“normal” large, not like McQueen). Hopefully you’ll get close enough to the clothes to check out Schiaparelli’s innovative tree-bark rayon. If you can’t get there, preview the exhibition set-up on line, and go take the curator’s walk through (the second video from the top).

You can look through some of the images that the Met is sharing on line, but they don’t feature some of the in-person eye-poppers – the blue-squiggled Schiaparelli bridal veil on loan from Philadelphia, a color photo of Schiaparelli’s gold sari dress and veil (although the Horst photo is great), or Prada’s stuff with monkey and banana prints. [Prada quote: “I never thought people would want to wear clothes with monkeys and bananas on them.”]

One of the biggest complaints visitors have about the show is that it’s so hard to see and hear the “conversation” videos between Prada and Schiaparelli (played by Judy Davis, and, yes, someone did ask me “who played Prada?”).  Not  a problem, because all eight conversation videos are posted online (scroll to the bottom of the page).

If you have an extra hour in front of the computer, here’s the added bonus: the video of Iris Apfel discussing good and bad taste in contemporary fashion at the Met last June.  Who doesn’t want Iris’s amazing perspective on style?

If you don’t have the time, just check out The Rules by Elsa Schiaparelli, courtesy of Philadelphia’s 2005 exhibition site. Agree? Disagree? Well, maybe you’ll concur with Prada’s side of the conversation.

Disturbed Bird Watching on The Bowery

You don’t need binoculars at the slightly subversive installation at The New Museum featuring dozens of fantastical avian creatures.

The Parade is Nathalie Djurberg’s collaboration with musician Hans Berg, which fills the space at Studio 231 (to the right of the museum’s main entrance). As you poke and pick your way among the feathered flock (actually painted canvas, wire, and other assembled materials), you may feel a little unsettled.  Then you’ll notice several video screens on the walls in which the animated people and creatures do, well….not so nice things.

Djurberg’s known for her animated films in which her animated clay sculptures do horrible things. She says that in order to position her little characters correctly, she often has to act out the parts so she can understand how to portray the movements during the tedious shot-by-shot animation process.

As you watch surrounded by the bird parade, Berg’s music often layers sweet sounds on top of some disturbing candy-colored images, making your safari through 231 more than a little unnerving.

This Swedish team was originally commissioned by the Walker in Minneapolis. Download the audio guide to The Parade and take the journey.

Channel Your Inner Coward

Noel Coward, that is, by going for the full immersion experience at NYPL of the Performing Arts at Lincoln Center’s show that covers every inch of his creative life. Spend an hour or two probing the films, videos, music, and items that overflow at the exhibition, Star Quality: The World of Noel Coward.

It will definitely inspire you to write that musical revue, star in your own drama, entertain around a piano, paint a landscape that you love, snag a cameo in a film, be a friend to one and all, and party like it’s 1999.

You can begin by visiting the special website the NYPL has created and digging around in the decade-by-decade archive that keeps unfurling before you. Not all of the photos are dated, but you’ll see stage production photos from the original 1920s productions of Easy Virtue and The Vortex, Private Lives from the 30s, and Blithe Spirit from the 40s (go, Mildred Natwick!). There’s plenty of Lunt-Fontanne to go around in subsequent decades, and some classic shots of Elaine Stritch in Sail Away from the 60s.

If you need a quick refresher on all Coward’s shows, check out his portion of the Playbill vault.

But the walk-through at Lincoln Center goes well beyond just the songs, reviews, and drawing-room comedies with tales of his debut as a precocious child actor, iconic dressing gowns, inscribed gold and silver cigarette cases, a piano festooned with his favorite celebrity portraits, his “spy” career during WWII, his Vegas career (tuxedo in the desert?), and his TV/film work.

In fact, the lights, camera, and action are on full display with NYPL’s multiple viewing stations around the show, including some early 1930s footage of Coward’s musical stage reviews that are filmed from the wings, including a parade of “Children of the Ritz” and the Broadway debut of “Mad About the Boy”.

Go to see this now, and don’t miss the slide show of recently discovered private 3-D photos from the 1950s that is just inside the door.

Cool Off in Dublin Water Works

During the summer heat wave, there’s a way to cool down in Chelsea and let the team from the Science Gallery at Trinity College challenge you to think differently about the splashing water you take for granted.

Take advantage of the final weeks of Surface Tension: The Future of Water at Eyebeam Art & Technology Center on West 21st Street, an incubator for digital art/design experimentation. For the past two-plus months, they’ve hosted an exhibition (first curated in Dublin) on the social-economic-political tensions created by water scarcity.

As soon as you walk into Eyebeam, you’ll be struck by the plethora of infographics that show you just how much water bounty that we have in the United States versus the availability and consumption per capita in the rest of the world. What’s your water footprint?

One of the ways you’ll find out is by looking at The Virtual Water Project, a celebrated infographic by German designer Tim Kekeritz, that depicts everyday objects and the amount of water required to produce them. Download the iPhone app. For $1.99, it will blow your mind (but not your budget) and continue to deliver a truly a conscious-raising experience of epic proportion.

Another unforgettable experience is Bit.Fall by artist Julius Popp, an installation that translates words from Internet newsfeeds into bits that are reconverted into a stunning waterfall of words:

There’s so much great stuff: multiple takes on water consumption, conservation, next-gen thinking, third-world innovations, and art-meets-technology solutions. Like Tele-Present Water by David Bowen, which recreates actual water movements from NOAA data being collected from a random buoy out in the ocean.

If you can’t get over to Chelsea for an hour, just click through the thought-provoking objects, artworks, design solutions, documentaries, and thought pieces by the scientists, artists, engineers, and designers whose works are on display on the Dublin microsite.

Egyptian Animal Planet at The Met

Animal lovers, rush to see the final days of a truly spectacular journey back in time to experience the African wildlife that bounded across the still-lush lands surrounding the Nile. Tucked back into the lower level of the Met’s Lehman Wing, it may be easy to miss The Dawn of Egyptian Art, but don’t!

The items in this show are embellished with some of the liveliest, whimsical, and dramatic creatures, big and small, that entranced the citizens of Dynasties I and II, over five millennia ago.

Back in 3300 B.C., it was all about the animals – carvings of sleek and savvy jackals, mehen game boards in the shapes of snakes and turtles, fat bird jars, and frog containers that would make 14th century Mesoamerican artists jealous.  Who knew that you’d carry your stuff around in ostrich-egg containers? Or use palettes adorned with antelopes and turtles? Or have hair combs decorated with giraffes, hippos, and wildebeest? (Pre-dating Hello Kitty by about 5,000 years.)

It’s as if the curators were mounting a show for the AMNH, because they clearly have an eco-anthro explanation about the hottest trends. Examples: elephants were commonly seen in the lands around the Nile around 3700 B.C., but they vanished from the desert (and thus, from the art) by 2649 B.C.

Also, around 3300 B.C., there was art trend to portray some animals as sacred. But it wasn’t until the Upper and Lower Egyptian kingdoms were united in 2150 B.C. that animals were used as royal symbols and the well-known style of animal-head-on-human-body became the thing.

Jackal (ca. 3300-3100 B.C.)

Other highlights of this show include the Two-Dog Palette (which gives the famous Narmar Palette a run for its money) and a seemingly unremarkable ceramic bowl that documents a time of unprecedented high-tech innovation in 3700-3450 B.C. textile making: a new technique with ground looms that enabled the ancient Egyptians to weave the strongest, widest linen in the world (ever).

Join this safari and go spot some big game through the eyes of the ancient Egyptians.

Curtain Comes Down on Follies

Unfortunately, the show has closed: The Great American Revue exhibition at NYPL’s Library of Performing Arts at Lincoln Center ended its run last weekend.

Performer in one of The Passing Show revues (1912-1919), which spoofed politicians and Broadway shows (kind of like “Forbidden Broadway”)

Today, Broadway pretty much consists of musicals and dramas, but back in the day, the “tired businessman” was entertained by chorus lines, comics, impersonators, satirists, and the best songwriters. (Think Cohan, Berlin, Rogers & Hart.)

Perhaps the note found in the archives inside a Follies costume swatch book sums it up: “Costume designs are attached. Lyrics will be written if you are interested.”

This terrific NYPL show explored how follies and revues evolved between the years 1902 (the dawn of the Hammerstein Roof Garden shows) to 1938 (when topical revues of the Great Depression, such as Pins and Needles made their mark).

The curators’ chronology and commentary is brilliant, chronicling the four stages of development: beginnings, experimenting with formats, celebrating the “body as performance”, and the emergence of political satires (1930s). (Download the show’s mini-program to get the Cliff Notes version.)

Chorus line from Earl Carroll’s Vanities (1923-1940), which featured the Most Beautiful Girl in the World

Who knew that the original Hippodrome was also built by the team that built Coney Island’s Luna Park? Who knew that George White invented “souvenir programs”? Who knew that Martha Graham got her start in settlement-house venues way back when the Neighborhood Playhouse was at the Henry Street Settlement? Who knew that audience participation shows and mini-revues on rooftop eating-drinking gardens predated the Brooklyn Bowl mash-up by 100 years?