JK and I finally went to see "The Nomadic Museum" and its exhibition of Gregory Colbert's photographs called Ashes and Snow. The NM, designed by Shigeru Ban -- one of the horde of celebrity architects prancing recently through the pages of the liberal press -- was beautiful but it wasn't a museum. (After an exhausting year of redefining museums, I have decided that anybody who will let me in for free with my AAM card is a museum; the NM cashier was pleasant and efficient but demanded my six dollars [twelve for real grownups].)
Roberta Smith already wrote, more eloquently than I can, almost everything I thought. In summary, the shipping-crate building is cool but the photgraphs suck. If you are anywhere near a bus shelter or a copy of the New Yorker, you've already seen them. They are almost unbearably sentimental, tinged with a semi-offensive and VERY tired portrayal of "primitive" or "other" people as at one with nature and animals, serving as an inspiration for us harried, modern, sucessful city-dwellers. Or whatever. Cute kids in faraway places hugging elephants.
JK's irritation at the hourlong wait for a 15-minute visit was made only slightly better by the stunning interior and some delightful ice cream we ate while waiting on the line. I guess I'm glad that I went but it did make me kind of depressed. The place was packed, and while I am always happy to see lines for an art exhibition, my populism was strained. Are all these people here only because Rolex bought a lot of ads? Am I so out of touch that I am nauseated by something the "general public" finds deeply touching? Is museum architecture more important that what's inside? Sigh.
Anyway, the cathedral-like space formed by cardboard tubing was amazing (photo blurry due to stealth). And then we had a nice bike ride.
