{BREAKING}: Banksy Back in NYC for Another Residency?

NYC locals and international fans of (in)famous graffiti artist Banksy have been buzzing since last Wednesday, March 14th, with the appearance of an iconic rat painted on the clock face of a soon-to-be-demolished building on W. 14th Street. Rife with Bansky’s signature grey and black stencil designs, pictures of the rat appeared shortly thereafter on Banksy’s Instagram page @banksy, where the artist posted two pictures – one detail and one scene shot showing a building at the intersection of 6th Ave and 14th Street – with the design.

The following day, on Thursday, March 15th, the artist posted another series of pictures on his Instagram – this time of imprisoned Turkish artist and journalist Zehra Dogan with the hashtag #FREEzehradogan.

With the appearance of two murals in less than 24 hours, many wondered if the artist was coming back for another artistic “residency” in the city like the month-long one he had back in 2013.

Now, it appears that speculation is becoming fact, as just over two hours ago the artist posted yet another series of images on his Instagram showing a newly-stenciled mural located in Coney Island.

This time, the image appears to be a wealthy contractor/constructionist – whose black profile is eerily-similar to Donald Trump – using a red line graph trending upwards as a sort of “whip” to herd out minorities, children, and the elderly, causing some to wonder if this socially-charged street artist is making commentary about gentrification.

Banksy’s art is often tongue-in-cheek and highly political, usually revolving around issues of social justice and class warfare. He has made works of art around the world commenting on international hot-button issues such as Guantanamo Bay, the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, and famine in Darfur.

Both images taken by the author at the “Art in the Streets” special installation at Los Angeles’s Museum of Contemporary Art back in 2011

The artist, whose identity remains unknown and consistently generates heavy speculation, often uses his Instagram account as a way to announce his new installations. Prior to his arrival in New York a few days ago, the last time the artist posted was on January 26th.

Stay tuned to find out if Banksy has yet again made NYC his temporary playground – and New Yorkers, keep your eyes open for any new works of art popping up in our city. And if you’ve seen these works in person, your thoughts/impressions are welcomed in the comments!

Green-Wood: Where all the Ghoul Kids Hang

A few short weeks ago back in early September, I was quite loudly bemoaning to anyone and anything that would listen the fact that summer was leaving us to our fate for the foreseeable future, was encouraging us to prep for the changing of the seasons by packing up our swimsuits and sundresses and pulling out our pullovers and pantsuits (okay, that was just for the alliteration, who *really* wears pantsuits anymore besides Hillary?). I was genuinely gloomy at the prospect; I wasn’t ready for the music festivals, for the “vacation mode” mindset – the one that seemed to permeate the office and make it okay to sneak out at 5:30 to grab a seat at that open-air bar or head to an early concert – to end. I wasn’t ready to give up on the fact that I could so easily request to “work remotely” (i.e. drink iced lattes in my pjs while occasionally checking emails) because literally everyone else in the office was on vacation. I wasn’t ready to forgo picnics in the park to hibernate for the next nine months, to wallow in the harsh beauty and first-world misery that is a New York City winter.

Fall signifies the coming of winter, but that doesn’t mean that I hate fall. Oh, no – to the contrary- fall is my favorite season, just as Halloween is my favorite holiday.  I love the crisp air that lets me wear boots and leggings, a comfy sweater or my favorite leather jacket, which is by now so worn that it might be time to retire it.

Of course the real reason I was ready for Fall to make its grand entrance was because I had finally, for the first time in four years, updated my fall wardrobe. After putting on my fifth pair of leggings with holes in them and realizing that my toes were officially popping out of my well-worn shoes, I had reached desperation level. I spent a couple of weeks in September preparing myself for the coming cold by heading out to the Queens Center Mall, Banana Republic, Gap, and Buffalo Exchange to slowly stock up on leggings, sweaters, sweater dresses, “fall-ish” dresses, and a jean jacket. So when September 21st rolled around, and it was 87 degrees out at 90% humidity, I was not a happy camper. I’m never this ready for the fall weather, and summer had decided to foil my plans by forcing me into the same skirts I’d been wearing for the last five months since May.  You know the old adage about the house guest over staying his welcome? Yeah, that was Summer 2017. Nobody wants to be that house guest – it’s better to leave your hosts wanting more, not wishing you had booked that earlier train out a day (or five) sooner.

Given the recent – and seemingly futile – effort put into a wardrobe update, I’m sure you can imagine my excitement when last weekend, Fall decided to *finally* show up to the party and grace us with its presence in the form of absolutely perfect jacket weather, a crisp-but-not-cold breeze, and deliciously partly-cloudy skies dripping with atmospheric light. It was obviously the perfect weekend to explore a cemetery.

Yeah, I know, it sounds weird – more than one person has pointed out the disconnect between this “nice, sweet girl from small-town PA” and her freakish obsession with scary movies, the macabre, Tim Burton, Halloween, and all things creepy/ghoulish/slightly death-related. I don’t really know when my fascination with the dark or spooky started, exactly, but it was probably in me from the beginning. Alice in Wonderland was my favorite childhood movie, after all, one that would be played on repeat on sick days much to my mother’s dread (“Why don’t we try a nice princess movie, here, let’s put in Sleeping Beauty…”)

Maybe that’s why I connected so well with my favorite blogging couple – Lynn and Justin over at Mad Hatters NYC. With a name like that and my soft spot for Alice, it was bound to be a blogging friendship made in heaven. Who better to go on a New York City adventure to a graveyard with (and indulge in artery-massacring food) than the duo that also has a love of Lewis Carroll, street art, Queens Comfort, and other foods that send you into cardiac arrest? It’s just icing on the cake (and I’m pretty sure we ate the whole cake) that they have a similar opinion of Brooklyn. But would they also be interested in exploring the stomping grounds of the undead with me? Much to my delight, when I suggested to Lynn that we check out Green-Wood, her reaction was not “Hey Justin, maybe we should find a new friend because this one seems a little weird,” but rather, “Cool! What time?”

Hence last Saturday, the last day of September and the first real day of Fall. I bounded out of bed bright and early, made myself a pumpkin spice latte (you know, to be extra basic in my love of autumn and sweater-weather),  threw a fall-colored dress and a jean jacket (finally!) on top of my black leggings and tan boots, and went out into the warm and sunny weather to catch the N train that would take me straight to Industry City in Sunset Park, Brooklyn. Because no NYC adventure is complete without some sort of crazy food outing, and especially so when it’s with the Mad Hatters, we decided to start at the Avocaderia.

Claiming to be “the world’s first avocado bar,” (#InstagramBait), the Avocaderia serves up toasts, salads, bowls, and smoothies featuring California and your basic white girl’s favorite green fruit – the avocado – as the main ingredient. As much as I’m all about avocado (being both a #BWG and a Californian by adoption), I will sadly and somewhat reluctantly admit that I was not so impressed with my “Beets & Blue” avocado toast.

While the staff was incredibly nice and the presentation was beautiful, I found the toast to be both overwhelming in flavors (the avocado was lost for the rest of the ingredients) and underwhelming in taste (some things were just not meant to be combined). Personally I found the green pico and house-made agave mustard a little too sweet and a bit over-the-top, not really meshing all that well with the beets, blue cheese, and arugula. The toast was also cold and hard to bite/cut into with the plastic forks they gave us. I found my eyes wandering over more often than not to Justin’s meat-packed sandwich in what was a serious case of food envy. Not to say that it was bad, necessarily – I’m sure some people would go crazy for it; just that it could hardly be described as worth the trek for something I could easily make at home with fewer ingredients and a better outcome.

Of course the real reason we found ourselves in Sunset Park was not for the sub-par avocado toast, but for Green-Wood Cemetery, a 478-acre burial ground for New York’s elite founded in 1838 and housing over 560,000 “permanent residents” (a euphemism if there ever was one). Again, you may be wondering – why is this weirdo spending her free time on a sunny Saturday  wandering around a graveyard? Apparently, I’m not the only one – at one point, Green-Wood Cemetery was second only to Niagara Falls as the nation’s greatest tourist attraction; its expansive green space not only drew in a large number of visitors (nearly 500,000 a year in the early 1860s), but also inspired the development and architectural styles of both Central and Prospect Parks, two of New York City’s most famous outdoor spaces.

In any event, Green-Wood cemetery – best accessed by the N/R trains at 36th St. or 25 St. stations, or by the D train at 9th Avenue – was the perfect introduction to Fall in New York, setting the tone for the month of October and my favorite holiday. Because it was close to Industry City where the Avocaderia was, we entered on the southwest side near the 36th St. train station, and leisurely worked our way over to the southeast side, to Jean-Michel Basquiat’s grave (a must-see for all of us). Over the course of 4 hours and 20,000 steps (I definitely earned the pint of Talenti I devoured later), we enjoyed a thoroughly peaceful walk on rustic paths surrounded by trees, crispy changing leaves, lakes, geese – and yes, beautifully ornate Gothic stonework in the forms of incredible mausolea, tombstones, and gravemarkers.

What was so striking about Green-Wood was how incredibly peaceful and quiet it was. While we did see a couple of funerals taking place, there weren’t the mass groups of tourists and cyclists, of peddlers hawking scarves and trinkets and candied nuts and second-rate portraits, that you find in other parks and tourist attractions in the city. I can’t really think of any other place that offers such incredible views of lower Manhattan, framed by trees and clouds and statues and architecture, without all of the (living) people that come with it.

Another thing that makes this urban cemetery so exceptional is that, unlike other graveyards, it is the perfect fusion between art and nature, the contrasting exposition of the city and the country. Looking at the tombstones of Boss Tweed, Basquiat, and Louis Comfort Tiffany while on top of a former Revolutionary War Battlefield so blatantly makes clear the universality of life and death across both past and present; I couldn’t help but think of the memento mori inscribed above the interred skeleton in Masaccio’s famous Holy Trinity painting in Santa Croce, Florence:  I once was what you are, and what I am, you also will be.

If you plan on escaping the madness of Manhattan to visit Green-Wood cemetery this autumn, be sure to first check the hours on their website, as they tend to change up closing time (which differs at each entrance) in accordance with the daylight. Also, because Green-Wood is still an active cemetery today, remember to be respectful and conscientious – no running, yelling, biking, skateboarding, etc. And even though the space is huge, keep in mind that it is a graveyard and not a park – so there won’t be any places for you to purchase food or bottles of water if you get hungry (though there are restrooms at some of the entrances).

Besides recommending the obvious, such as wearing comfortable walking shoes and making sure to pack for the weather (umbrella, jacket, etc.), I would also argue that the best plan is no plan when it comes to mapping out your visit. At the end of the day, all gravestones essentially look the same – they just have a different name on them. So it doesn’t *really* matter if you hit all the famous ones on your first time through. Rather, I would suggest taking a leisurely stroll, going on some of the off-the-beaten-paths, admiring the geese by the lake, the creepy Gothic trees (seriously, look at the tree above! It looks like it came straight from a horror movie!) and impressive architecture, and of course, taking pictures. I would also recommend walking up Battle Avenue near the southeast entrance to reach the cemetery’s highest point (and the best views of Manhattan). If you must see a particular site, I suggest picking up a map at one of their entrances or downloading one off of their website prior to entering the grounds.

Even though an early-AM trek into Brooklyn meant that I couldn’t sleep in on a Saturday (and in fact woke up earlier than I normally would on a weekday to make up for the long commute/unpredictable weekend trains!), it was totally perfect – I could not have closed out September and officially rang in fall in a more fitting way. Besides–you can sleep when you’re dead, right?

 

 

 

Review: Whitney Biennial 2017

April showers bring May flowers, as the saying goes.  For me, this year’s showers came in March, and the flowers (and sometimes pain yet always beauty) of new growth made their glorious, tentative reentry at the beginning of April. April has been a month dedicated to rediscovering my passions and reconnecting with the things that make me happy as I enter a new chapter of my twenty-something life in the city.

In the spirit of such, I recently had the pleasure of taking some time out of a perfect spring Sunday to wander down by the Hudson to the Whitney Museum of American Art. My primary reason for going was to check out a special exhibit on the museum’s 8th floor, devoted to paintings from the 1980s. While my formal training was in Italian Renaissance Art History, my favorite professor in undergraduate was my Modern and American Art History professor. He brought Modern and Contemporary Art to life in a way that this hardened “realist” had never before considered, so much so that for one of my senior projects I wrote a paper on Transavanguardia and the Italian Neo-Expressionists from the 1980s, focusing on the artists Sandro Chia and Francesco Clemente, and art critic Achille Bonito Oliva.

Inspired by the evocative portraits and painterly gestures found in the works of Chia and Clemente, hearkening back to the 1950s and the quintessential Abstract Expressionists, I developed a deep appreciation for the urban grit, grime, social and political commentary, and pop culture references found in much of the art of the 1980s. When I saw that the Whitney was showcasing this era at a special exhibit, I knew I had to meander down to the waterfront to check it out – especially as the museum touted the presence of works by one of my favorite artists, Jean Michel Basquiat.

Jean Michel Basquiat, LNAPRK, 1982 (acrylic, oil, oil stick, and marker on found paper on canvas and wood), Whitney Museum of American Art

As excited as I was to finally be re-immersed in art, I have to admit – I was largely underwhelmed by the exhibit. There was only one Basquiat that I was aware of, and the rest of the show consisted of largely disconnected lesser-known works scattered among what seemed like attempts at bulking up the show’s quality – i.e. remarking on the “Keith Harings” in the show, when in actuality there was only one Haring and a large wall covered in Haring-esque wallpaper (pictured above) which was, at times, quite distracting to the works of art placed on top of it. Placing a Haring on a Haring, or even a Basquiat on a Haring, skews the viewer’s visual field and takes away from the work itself. On top of that, it was a pretty meager collection that I spent less than 20 minutes viewing, and I would have left disappointed were it not for the Whitney’s 2017 Biennial Exhibition taking up the remainder of the museum’s floor space.

What to Do in NYC this Weekend

Last weekend we were #blessed with unseasonably warm weather here in the Big Apple. I’m talking temperatures in the mid-80s, breezy, sunny, and warm – it was like Spring in all of her splendor was welcoming us with open arms!

Alas, like a lover scorned, she turned away too soon and shed her tears – in the form of constant drizzle, wind, and temperatures in the 50s. It was a short-lived blissful reminder that summer is just around the corner.

This weekend we can expect a hybrid of the two, a salty-sweet combo of sun and rain, cold and warm, the last dredges of winter and the first buds of spring. Given the unpredictable nature of NYC weather and the wrench it can throw into weekend plans, I wanted to share a couple of fun indoor AND outdoor activities to pass away this upcoming April weekend.

If you find yourself in Queens…

Make your way to Queen’s Comfort in Astoria for hands-down one of the best brunches I’ve ever had.

Postcards from My Past

Recently I was cleaning out my Hotmail inbox (yeah, I still use my high school Hotmail email address – don’t judge) when I stumbled across a folder I had created in 2011 called “Archived.” I had forgotten about that folder entirely.

I clicked on it.

Inside was a nice slew of old emails from my past – letters and notes that I didn’t want to lose for some reason or another. Mixed in with a few recipes and random notes, “Archived” was like a digital scrapbook or forgotten junk drawer of old phone books and takeout menus that I was only now cleaning out.

Lately, as many mid-to-late twenty-somethings are apt to do, I’ve been self-reflecting a lot, so it seemed appropriate to sort through some of the emails I had saved from my past, to see what 21-year-old Lauren deemed worthy of saving for 26-year-old Lauren.

I could not have been more proud of 21-year-old Lauren for her foresight at knowing the exact emails I would want and need to see today.

Here are some things I found in my digital scrapbook: