P.S. 1

I normally work on Saturdays, but today I actually had the day off, and while it was fantastic being able to sleep (which I did until about 10am), once I woke up, I couldn’t help but be a little bummed out that I had no real plans for the day.

Sure, there’s always some chores that can be done. Laundry, cleaning, running errands. But those sorts of things never really appeal to me. Do they ever appeal to anyone? Having no exciting activity planned for a day off that I normally don’t get left me feeling a little discouraged about the state of my life right now. It made me realize that I’m getting dangerously close that threshold where your job is the only thing keeping you active and getting you out and about. Yikes!

I put a call out into the universe for something interesting to do today, and the universe answered back in the form of a suggestion from Lauren that I pay a visit to P.S. 1.

I couldn’t believe that in three years of living in virtually the same neighborhood as P.S. 1 (nevermind ten years of living in the same city), that I had never actually been there. I checked their website, discovered that it was only $5 to get in, and my adventure for the day had been decided upon.

Upon arrival to the museum, I discovered that it would be filled with modern art, based on the giant sign on the facade of the building declaring that it is part of MoMA, as evidenced by the above picture (not mine. shamelessly stolen from the Internet). I have been to MoMA once before to see their Pixar exhibit a few years ago, but didn’t really explore the other areas of it at the time as we didn’t have much time to on that particular outing. This trip reminded me that I need to get back there and do that.

First thing I was greeted with was their giant stone sign at the front gates.

That left me with the question “Is there a difference between Modern and Contemporary Art?”

I will be the first person to admit that I know nothing about art. I can’t really analyze it, or discuss it academically with any real authority. I have no idea how to interpret it or find the deeper meanings. And when i comes to Modern (or would that be Contemporary?) Art, all bets are off. I was starting to get concerned that I wouldn’t be able to actually enjoy the museum if I couldn’t understand what I was looking at.

Lauren had told me that the front courtyard was really pretty, so I was looking forward to that part. Unfortunately it looked like they were in the middle of installing a new exhibit (or perhaps uninstalling it), so there wasn’t much to look at. It looks like it will be pretty cool when they finish with it though, so I decided if I liked the rest of the museum enough, maybe I’d come back in a month or so to see the finished courtyard display as well.

Once beyond the front doors, I was informed that there was no cell phone use or photography allowed, so I was unable to take pictures of anything else to share. Which I totally understand. I’m familiar enough with various mediums of art to know that unauthorized reproductions (including photographs) are generally frowned upon. Does that make me a hypocrite for posting a picture of the courtyard installation? Probably.

Hey, nobody’s perfect.

One thing about the museum that left me a little crestfallen was that it currently seemed to be only about half-full. A lot of areas, and even some entire floors were closed off and dark, so my afternoon at the museum quickly turned into only about an hour or so. That’s not to take away anything from the experience and exhibits that I did see there, just wish I would have had the chance to fully explore and see even more to make more of a day out of it.

The exhibits that I did see left me with the question of “What is art?” What makes this random thing sitting in the middle of a white room “art”? What does something have to be or include to make it cross that line from being a something to being a work of art? Who is the one who gets to decide that?

There was one exhibit which featured a white pillar that came up to about my navel. On that pillar was a cube-shaped glass container filled with water. And submerged in that water was a block of tofu. And that…was art.

Really?

I soak tofu in water at least once a week in my kitchen. What made the one in the museum art while mine is nothing more than leftovers waiting to be cubed up and put in a salad? The pillar? Do I need to get a pillar so I can start making money off of my leftovers?

There was also a whole exhibit that dealt with Lee Harvey Oswald. Clipping of photographs, interviews, newspaper excerpts all collaged together into various pieces. As if the whole JFK assassination controversy wasn’t fascinating enough, there was one piece in this exhibit that captured my attention. Handwritten in a haphazardly-neat (did that make any sense?) cursive in the bottom right corner of the piece was the phrase “Anybody Can Pretend.” I have no idea what that means or what exactly the artist was trying to say with that phrase on that particular piece, but those three words really struck a chord with me. I stood there and stared at it for a good three minutes before I realized I had been standing there for three minutes staring at that sentence. It left me feeling a little uneasy, and yet inspired at the exact same time.

There were a couple moments that were actually a little shocking to the system and scary. You have to use these stairwells which are unpainted and a little unkempt to travel from floor to floor. Exposed brick, but a little disheveled. They gave the appearance of being stairwells that aren’t meant for public use and more for maintenance use only. So, it feels a little bit like your trespassing in areas that you aren’t supposed to be. Not only was it creepy enough to be walking through areas where you didn’t think you were allowed to be and not sure of where they were going to lead, but you turn the corner and staring you in the face is one of the 9/11 terrorists.

Excuse me?!

Yeah, apparently in random and out of the way corners and stairwells where there would not normally be a piece of art hanging, there were small, framed 5 x 7 photograph of various 9/11 terrorists. It left me feeling very uneasy and nervous to explore areas outside of the main exhibit rooms. We’ve all been trained by society and our media to have such a strong reaction to these people (and understandably so) that I found myself a little scared whenever I saw one. And it didn’t help that I was in what appeared to be an abandoned stairwell at the moment.

Thus my imagination started getting the better of me and I started to think about how awesome it would be to film a horror movie at P.S. 1 where students on a field trip get locked in overnight while a psychopath held them captive in the museum and chased them through all the back stairwells and basement and through all of the creepy exhibits…soaking tofu and all.

Hey, it made me feel better about being stared down by a terrorist.

One of the most interesting parts of it all was that P.S. 1 used to be a public school (as evidenced by its name). It was very bizarre walking the halls of what was obviously once a school building, going into what was obviously once a classroom, but finding an art exhibit inside. It was a very unique juxtaposition that left me feeling a little unsure of where I was.

Perhaps that was an unintentional exhibit in and of itself. A museum that is a public school that is a museum. Where does the school end and the museum begin? Where else can a museum exist? Maybe everything we do and create is a living and ever-changing museum about who we are.

Woah. Did I just say something deep? That’s new.

Upon leaving the museum, I was still questioning what makes something art, and I think I’ve come up with an answer that works for me. I think that anything that someone creates that can cause an emotional reaction in someone else can be deemed art. Whether it be joy, sadness, fear, hope, or even confusion. If it has touched you somewhere and made you take a moment to think and feel, then that is art.

I left the museum feeling very good about my visit and newfound discovery.

On my walk back to the subway to head home, I passed a trash can that made me smile. You see, when you pay your admission to get into P.S. 1, you’re given a sticker to wear as proof of payment. And when you leave P.S. 1, you throw that sticker away. Or not.

I couldn’t help but stop and smile. I happily removed my sticker from my shirt, added it to the collection, and snapped a photograph of the collaboration I had now become a part of.

Perhaps someday someone will move that trash can inside the museum walls, because I think it’s pretty artistic as well.