If You're Bored in New York in the Fall, You Might be Boring.

2 Posts. 1 Week!? Wanted to send this out before the Doug Wheeler Zwirner show closes on the 19th

The above picture from Cafe Carmellini is just a picture I took and like.

The internet has made a lot of people think they’re funny. Or an authority on culture, politics, fashion, war, restaurants, who should or shouldn’t have a substack. Or be a writer. Criticism for clicks. Feels a bit Trumpian to me.

Which reminds me— I’m offended. He stole my bit with “The Weave”. His explanation for all of the non sequiturs at his rallies. Starting with one idea. Rambling for an hour. Then tying it back up at the end. That’s my thing.

Speaking of which—

Fall in New York. A frenetic sprint to the holidays. City at capacity. “Everyone” back in town. New art, broadway shows, US Open, Mets and Yankees in the playoffs, new restaurants, Oscar movie season etc…

If you’re bored in New York in the Fall— you might be boring. But that’s easy to cure.

Went to both the Armory and Independent in September. Bad art depresses me. There was plenty of it at The Armory. Which is actually at the Javits Center. No longer Park Avenue. There were bright spots. Great people watching. Humidity-free Fall weather. A Leonard Baby painting. Half Gallery was showing.

Reminded me of being home for the holidays. Watching old movies. Waiting for dinner to be ready. My dog laying next to me. Having a pet is like having a child that dies before you. Who came up with this idea? Mine recently turned 16!

On to Independent. I found it more focused. A cushy relaxing setting. Casa Cipriani.

Van Doren Water showed Rosemarie Beck paintings. They stuck out to me.

Untitled, 1972, Oil on linen, 20x22 in

Miranda and Ferdinand, 1979, Oil on linen, 18x22 in

Beck reminded me of the Izzy Barber show I’d seen in August. James Fuentes in LA.

I thought about Izzy again recently. At the Edward Hopper House in Nyack. I saw the Dike Blair show. Which makes sense if you’re familiar with his paintings. Karma Gallery arranged it. Following the collaboration last year.

The above Hopper watercolor reminded me of Barber because she also makes her work on location.

Hopper had me thinking of when I first started as a photographer. Told to make pictures that are unmistakably you. I mean me.

These are mine.

Back to the fairs. I go to see art. Guilty. But also for the New York run-ins.

Bump into artists, dealers, collectors, friends. Wind up in a quick yet deep 5-10 minute catch up. I appreciate the short but meaningful coincidental hangs.

I thought about a recent Pete Wells article. Reservation apps strip a layer away from the human+human connection. Fills the room with a random mix. Apps that sell a res on the secondary market. For double the cost. Imagine what that does to the crowd. Read it though for yourself. I appreciated.

The restaurant owners I know reserve a portion for their regulars. Why I mainly eat at a rotation of their places. Hopper and dinner out remind me of this Ian Howorth picture.

I used it as a reference for the interior themed guest room Der Greif asked me to curate. It’s Hopper-ish.

Bobby recently wrote about Prefect Days too. I rewatched it on the plane to Paris.

I thought about how our routines can ground us. But maybe they're also a distraction. Keep us from taking risks. Which reinforced my decision to make the trip. I spent some time in Belleville. Which made me think of a Thomas Boivin picture.

When I'm on a plane, train or automobile— often wonder about what each person is going home to. Garry Winogrand’s picture came to mind.

Albuquerque, NM 1957. Start of the Cold War. Winogrand was hired by the US Information Agency. Travel the country— paint a picture of this period.

Saw it at both Christie’s & Philips Auctions in NY last week.

It has an uneasy tone. Maybe it’s the year it was made? Or ominous sky. Maybe I’m projecting. The suburbs give me anxiety.

Kind of fascinating how that works— art telling the story of cultural change. Like Robert Frank’s The Americans. This Winogrand picture is said to have captured what Frank missed.

Frank has a retrospective at MoMA. Life Dances On. It’s heavy on grief. About his two children dying before him. Plane crash. Suicide.

I liked the collages.

They reminded me of the David Hockney polaroid assemblages I’ve always loved. Saw this one at Guild Hall bookshop in East Hampton in August.

I thought about how we process and talk about grief. Frank did it with pictures and collages. Now— social media. Candid posts about death of a loved one, a relationship or the many wars occurring around the world. The grief I felt in his show made me think of Doug Wheeler at David Zwirner.

The artist asked no pictures be taken. So I lifted this one from the gallery site.

It felt like— heaven. Or how it’s often depicted.

Made of a few basic materials. fiberglass, lightbulbs, white paint. Creating a light induced smoke screen. My hand reached in front of me for the wall. As I moved slowly towards the back. Couldn’t tell where it ended. Disorienting. But in a good way.

Wheeler’s work is expensive to produce. Not a criticism of politics. Or the zeitgeist. Rarely sells. But Zwirner has long championed it. It simply exists. I’m happy it does. I started this newsletter to be a home for all my non sequiturs. And like the Wheeler exhibition— a reprieve from the intense time we all live in. It’s the best thing up right now. Maybe all year. I’m gonna go back before it closes on Oct 19. I hope you do too.