Bushwick Gallery Guide Updated

By Charles Kessler

Note: On the right sidebar under "Gallery and Museum Guides" is a pdf file of this guide that can be downloaded. The numbers on the map represent bars and restaurants; these are listed below, after the gallery listings.

Three galleries closed since my last update in February: 950 Hart, Botanic and Kesting/Ray — but at least nine galleries opened, bringing the total to an amazing thirty-nine. They're spread out over a large area; what is being called “Bushwick” actually includes parts of East Williamsburg and Ridgewood, Queens. If you have the energy, it’s possible to do it all in one day (it's about 4 1/2 miles), but you can easily split the tour into eastern and western sections if you prefer. For the eastern section, you can take the L train to Morgan Avenue and go out the Bogart Street exit (toward the back of the train if you’re coming from the west). 56 Bogart, a building with 10 galleries, is across the street from the exit. For the western section, you can start from the Dekalb Avenue L subway station and return via the Jefferson Street L (at Wyckoff and Troutman).

Some galleries are open Friday - Monday, 1 - 6 pm, and most are open at least Sundays. Others, however, are only open by appointment and for openings. It's a good idea to check gallery websites (their names below are linked to their websites), email them, or call the galleries in advance to confirm. It’s also a good idea to take the gallery phone numbers with you because in some cases you may need be let in.

Alphabetical Listing of Bushwick Art Galleries

319 Scholes, 319 Scholes Street, no phone listed,  email: lindsay@319scholes.org.

Active Space, The, 566 Johnson Ave., buzz 5 to be toured through, no phone listed.

Agape Enterprise, 56 Bogart Street, (718) 417-0037, email: info@agapeenterprise.com.

Airplane, 70 Jefferson Street - basement, (central Avenue is a more pleasant street to take to this gallery than the safe but bleak Evergreen Avenue), (646) 345-9394, email: airplanegallery@gmail.com. 

Bogart Salon, 56 Bogart Street, (203) 249-8843, email: bogartsalon@gmail.com.

Bull and Ram, 17-17 Troutman #226, no phone listed, email: bullandram226@gmail.com.

C.C.C.P., 56 Bogart Street, (917) 974-9664, email: cccp@mindspring.com.

Centotto, 250 Moore Street #108, call (908) 338-3590 to be let in, email: postuccio@gmail.com.

CLEARING, 505 Johnson Avenue #10, (347) 383-2256, email: desk@c-l-e-a-r-i-n-g.com.

English Kills, 114 Forrest Street, (use door to the garden on the right), (917) 375-6266, 

email: info@englishkillsartgallery.com

et al Projects, 56 Bogart Street, (914) 498-8328, email: adam@etalprojects.com.

Ethan Pettit Contemporary, 119 Ingraham Street, no phone listed, email: ep@ethanpettitgallery.com.

Grace Exhibition Space, 840 Broadway, 2nd Floor, (646) 578-3402.

Grimm Schultz, 313 Linden Street, Studio B, no phone listed, email: info@grimmschultz.com.

Interstate Projects, 66 Knickerbocker Avenue, no phone listed, email: tom@interstateprojects.com.

IV Soldiers Gallery, 184 Noll Street, no phone listed, email: ivsoldiers@gmail.com.

Living Gallery, The, 1087 Flushing Avenue, no phone listed, email: thelivinggallery@gmail.com.

Luhring Augustine, 25 Knickerbocker Avenue, (212) 206-9100, email: info@luhringaugustine.com.

Microscope, 4 Charles Place, (347) 925-1433, email: info@microscopegallery.com.

Momenta Art, 56 Bogart, (718) 218-8058, email via their website.

Norte Maar, 83 Wyckoff Avenue, (646) 361-8512, email via their website.

NURTUREart, 56 Bogart Street, (718) 782-7755, email: gallery@nurtureart.org. 

OUTLET, 253 Wilson, no phone listed, email: info@OUTLETBK.com. This gallery will be changing its name, email address and website often. Get on their mailing list if you want to stay in touch.

Panoply Performance Lab, 104 Meserole, no phone listed, email: panoplylab@gmail.com.

Parallel Art Space, 17-17 Troutman Street, no phone listed, email: parallelartspace@gmail.com.

Parlour, The, 791 Bushwick Avenue, (718) 360-3218, email:  info@theparlourbushwick.com.

Regina Rex, 17-17 Troutman Street, ring bell #329, (646) 467-2232, email: info[at]reginarex.org.

Robert Henry Contemporary, 56 Bogart Street, (718) 473-0819, email: info@roberthenrycontemporary.com.

Sardine, 286 Stanhope Street, no phone or email listed.

Secret Project Robot, 389 Melrose Street, no phone listed, email: rachel@secretprojectrobot.org. 

Slag Contemporary, 56 Bogart Street, (212) 967-9818, email: info@SlagGallery.com.

Small Black Door, 19-20 Palmetto Street, no phone listed, email: smallblackdoor@gmail.com.

StorefrontBushwick, 16 Wilson Avenue, (917) 714-3813, email: StorefrontBushwick@gmail.com. 

Studio 10, 56 Bogart Street, (718) 852-4396, email: studio10bogart@gmail.com.

SUGAR , 449 Troutman Street, #3-5, ring bell #21, (718) 417-1180, email: sugar@sugarbushwick.com. 

THEODORE:Art, 56 Bogart Street, (212) 966-4324, email: theodoreart@gmail.com. 

Valentine, 464 Seneca Avenue, (718) 381-2962, email: valentineridgewood@gmail.com. 

Weeknights, 566 Johnson Avenue, Studio #27, (201) 953-4062, email: weeknightsgallery@gmail.com. 

Weldon Arts , 181-R Irving Avenue, (347) 955-4455, email: info@weldonarts.net. 

Bushwick Open Studios (BOS), Bogart Street, June 7, 2012.

If you’re going to spend a day gallery-going, you’ll want to stop occasionally at a bar or restaurant for some rest and recuperation. Bushwick is blessed with many excellent ones, and they’re usually a lot less expensive than you’ll find in Manhattan. They're grouped geographically below, and when available, I linked the name of the bar or restaurant to its website. The map was too crowded to include the names of the restaurants and bars, so they are indicated by number. The map was also too crowded to include coffee spots, but two of my favorites are Swallow, 49 Bogart Street, across the street from 56 Bogart; and The Loom, 1087 Flushing Avenue, in the same building as The Living Gallery.  

Recommended Bushwick Restaurants and Bars

1.  Roberta's Restaurant — 261 Moore Street, (718) 417-1118, open daily from 11am - midnight. This is Bushwick’s most famous restaurant, and one of the most unique restaurants in New York. For all that, it’s relatively inexpensive — maybe expensive for Bushwick, but not for Manhattan. Expect a wait. 

2.   MoMo Sushi Shack — 43 Bogart Street, (718) 418-6666, open Tuesday - Sunday from noon - 3:30pm and 6pm - 10:30pm; and Friday and Saturday until midnight. This is the best Japanese food I've had outside of California (I haven’t been to Per Se). Again, maybe a bit expensive for Bushwick, but not for Manhattan, and not for this quality. 

3.   Shinobi Ramen — 53 Morgan Ave (entrance on Grattan Street between Morgan & Bogart), no phone listed, open Monday - Thursday from 6pm to 11pm; Friday and Saturdays, 6pm to 11:30pm; closed on Sundays. This is a small, friendly place where people share long tables. The prices are more typical of Bushwick. (The nearby MoMo and Roberta’s also have communal seating — it must be a Bushwick thing.) BYOB. 

4.   Brooklyn Fireproof Cafe and Bar — 119 Ingraham Street, (347) 223-4211. The kitchen is open daily from 10am - 11pm; and Saturday and Sunday from 6pm - 11pm. The bar is open late. They have an outside courtyard where there’s often live music; and behind the bar is a room that’s sometimes used for art exhibitions.

5.   983 — 983 Flushing Avenue, (718) 386-1133, open 7 days a week from 10am - 2am. They’re a new restaurant that displaced a local favorite, but they have in turn become a popular neighborhood spot.

6.   Narrows Bar — 1037 Flushing Avenue, (281) 827-1800, open Monday - Friday from 5pm - 4am; Saturday and Sunday from 4pm - 4am. They have a pleasant back yard.

7.   Dear Bushwick — 41 Wilson Avenue,  (949) 234-2344, open every day from 5 - 11 pm (bar is open until 1pm on weekends). This is a new pub that specializes in English country food.

8.   Tandem Bar — 236 Troutman Street, (718) 386-2369, hours not listed, but they’re open late. Some food. 

9.   Mama Joy’s — 1084 Flushing Avenue, across from the Loom, (347) 295-2227, open every day from 11am; the bar is open until 2am. This is a very friendly new place that serves good Southern soul food at great prices. Try their shrimp and grits. 

10.   Cafe Ghia — 24 Irving Avenue, (718) 821-8806. The kitchen is open Sunday - Thursday from 10am - 11pm; and Friday and Saturday, 10am -12am. Popular small storefront cafe/bar.

11.   Arepera Guacuco — 44 Irving Avenue, (347) 305-3300, open Monday - Wednesday from noon - 11 pm; Thursday - Friday, noon - 12am; Saturday, 11am - 12am; Sunday 11am - 11pm. Excellent and inexpensive arepas and other Venezuelan specialties. 

12.   Northeast Kingdom — 18 Wyckoff Avenue, (718) 386-3864, open for lunch Monday - Friday from 11:30 - 2:30pm; for dinner, Sunday - Wednesday, 6 - 11pm,  and Thursday - Saturday, 6 - 11:30pm. The bar is open late. Pretty good burgers. 

13.   Tortilleria Mexicana Los Hermanos — 271 Starr Street, (718) 456-3422, open Monday - Friday from noon to 9pm. Very inexpensive, and not bad. 

14.   The Bodega Bar — 24 Saint Nicholas Avenue, (646) 924-8488, open daily from 11:30am - 2am; and until 3am Friday and Saturday. Craft beer and some good sandwiches and small plates. 

15.   Mazelle — 247 Starr Street, (347) 425-7675, open weekdays from 5 - 11 pm; weekends, 11am - 4am, closed Mondays. A new bar/restaurant that serves Russian and Ukrainian food.

16.   Skytown — 921 Broadway, (347) 921-2911; the kitchen is open daily from 8:30am -10pm. The bar is open late.  Nice looking new bar/cafe near Microscope, Airplane and The Parlour galleries.

17.   Little Skips — 941 Willoughby Avenue, (718) 484-0980, open 7am - 9pm every day except weekends when they open at 8:30am. A popular coffee cafe with some food.  Near Microscope, Airplane and The Parlour galleries.

18.   255 Cafe — 255 Wilson Avenue, (347) 985-2399, open Monday - Thursday from 10am - 8pm. This is a generally Spanish restaurant, sort of Mexican/Cuban. The pastelitos are supposed to be good.

19.   Monteros Mexican Grill — 173 Irving Avenue, (347) 533-7857, open every day from 8am - 10pm. They offer a strange combination of pizza and Mexican grill. 

20.   Bon Asian Spice — 140 St Nicholas Avenue, (347) 787-7876, open Monday - Saturday from 11am – 10pm; closed Sunday. Pan Asian food. 

21.   Caribe Star — 54-55 Myrtle Avenue, (718) 386-0387, open Sunday - Thursday from 8am - midnight; and Friday and Saturday, 8am - 1am. Authentic Dominican-American food. 

A Note on Pop Art: 50 Years and Counting

By Carl Belz

A half-century’s now passed, yet I vividly recall the excitement we felt when Pop Art happened in the New York art world at the start of the 1960s. And exciting it was, especially among the generation of artists, critics, curators and art historians who, like me, were entering the field at that moment. Exciting, in part, because the new art was up for grabs, it hadn’t been claimed, as Abstract Expressionism seemed then to have already been claimed, by patriarchs like Clement Greenberg, Harold Rosenberg, and Thomas Hess. Exciting, too, because its link to everyday experience, to billboards and soup cans and comic books, made it immediately accessible, even fun, in sharp contrast to AE’s seriousness of purpose and sometimes unfathomable depth. In addition, but by no means least among the excitements it stirred, Pop’s accessibility also extended to the art market, its product was inexpensive, it could be acquired and lived with for the equivalent of a new suit when a new car remained out of reach. 

Amid such excitements, Pop at the same time incited voices of discontent. Its bark on behalf of the commonplace was said to recall Dada, but it lacked Dada’s political bite and was therefore found wanting. It was said to be flawed as art because it only duplicated the look of the supermarket display and the tabloid front page, it failed aesthetically to transform them. And it was even dismissed out of hand--by no less than Greenberg himself--as a phenomenon belonging not to a proper art history but merely to the history of taste.

Greenberg was right and wrong. Right, insofar as Pop wasn’t first of all about art, it didn’t engage the formal probing and stretching that had characterized modernism’s urge to meaning since the middle of the 19th Century, it mostly adopted the formal tenets that modernism currently practiced, and thus was it considered tangential to modern art’s history. Which is very much the way kindred predecessors such as the Surrealists were regarded at the time of Pop’s happening, and the same was true even of Pop Godfather Marcel Duchamp, who at the beginning of the century had appropriated Cubism’s shallow space and shifting planes to structure his stories about nudes descending a staircase, chess players in competition, and a virgin transforming into a bride stripped bare, but who then abruptly retired from art-making in favor of playing chess himself, becoming in the process an artist interrupted: a fascinating but marginal figure, a major-minor player rather than a force, within the big art historical picture as it was viewed through Greenberg’s modernist prism.

What Greenberg got wrong was in large part a function of what he got right, which in both cases derived from a vision of art historical change based on the model of a mainstream and its tributaries. It was in the mainstream that formal originality powered art forward and in doing so regularly shaped our understanding of its history, at times even prodding a rewriting of that history--as Abstract Expressionism was in the process of prodding a rewriting of the late paintings of Claude Monet at the very moment when Pop appeared. All of which Greenberg surely knew, yet he wrote Pop off as just another example of our culture’s capricious, ever-changing taste. He dubbed it “far out” to indicate it was vanguard in appearance only, and he accordingly judged it as ephemeral, a blip on the radar screen the way Dada had been. It deserved maybe 15 minutes of our attention, but it didn’t affect the writing of art’s history.

Except that it did. From the outset, Pop was more widespread than any cultural alternative we’d previously seen. There seemed overnight to be Pop artists on every street corner and Pop pictures everywhere we turned, in gallery and museum exhibitions and in the media, nationally and internationally. And when the initial excitement about it waned, when the buzz subsided, and when the media spotlight moved inevitably to the next great thing, we realized that Pop had ushered in a sea change of historic proportions. 

To wit: Independence from elite culture had been declared, modernist hegemony in turn had been ruptured, taste had become democratized, and each of us had been set free to indulge without external sanction--and without the guilt and anxiety it engendered--the artistic excitements and pleasures and entertainments that piqued our interest;  free to enjoy Andy Warhol’s gaudy Marilyn in tandem with Mark Rothko’s somber abyss; even free--pace Clement Greenberg--to couple avant-garde and kitsch, to listen to tunes on a headset, say, while cruising art’s history at MoMA or the Met or the Frick Collection. Free, as well, to read artworks without regard for the artist’s intent and to conjure our personal histories of art based on those same favorite pleasures and excitements--the way Roy Lichtenstein did over a span of four decades as he served up his versions of classic ruins and romantic sunsets and Mondrian look-alikes and Abstract Expressionist brushstrokes and riffs on Surrealism and Cubism and Art Deco and Chinese landscapes, and in doing so produced an art historical panorama as entertaining as any theme park at Disneyland or anywhere else. 

As a crown upon these abundant excitements, finally, the new democracy of taste decade by decade spread steadily into the art market, at each heightened level bringing gasps of breathless wonder as collectors exercised their freedom to pay as much or more for an Andy Warhol as for a Jackson Pollock, as much or more for a Lichtenstein brushstroke inspired by Willem de Kooning as for a de Kooning itself, as much or more for all kinds of cultural commodities that nobody among us--at least nobody among 99% of us--could previously have imagined. True, Pop was inexpensive in the beginning, but its humble origin in the market only enhanced the creation myth that was pitched on its behalf, a myth that gradually accrued the iconic status of an investor’s fairy tale about free enterprise and the American Dream.

So Pop was a blast, and we reveled immediately in its exploits and rushed to absorb its message. We looked at Duchamp anew and watched his enormous influence catapult him into the exclusive company of Matisse and Picasso. We rediscovered Surrealism, not in the dreary nightmares of its founding fathers, but right in front of us, in the marvels of America’s everyday mass media culture and dazzling technology. We everywhere saw photography as it blossomed in a veritable renascence of theory and practice. Modern art’s arena seemed suddenly to have been leveled and expanded, no longer was modernism by itself in the spotlight, no longer did we have a mainstream and its tributaries. The non-hierarchical structure of modern society that Greenberg had insightfully found mirrored in Pollock’s overall pictures had come full circle to the gates of the elite world of modernist art. Our methodologies for dealing with both the modern and the modernist art of our time were in turn affected. In the face of Pop’s celebration of everyday subjects and instant access, formalist analyses were felt to be inadequate, even irrelevant. From the outset, news about Pop told us about the artists’ backgrounds, how Andy Warhol had been a commercial illustrator, how James Rosenquist had painted billboards. Constantly reminded that artists made art while living in the real world, at particular times and in particular places, we wanted increasingly to know how those factors affected the objects they made. Increasingly, then, the formalist autonomy of the object yielded to studies emphasizing the context of its creation. 

Pop arrived like a blast of fresh air, welcome and invigorating, and it remains in many ways synonymous with the upbeat aspect of the 1960s. But like the 60s as a whole, not all of Pop, let alone all of its postmodern progeny, has always worn well or been all that it was advertised as being. Not for me, anyway. I sometimes fret, for instance, about the high/low union: Warhol and Rothko may both flatten me, but in radically different ways that are in no way interchangeable. Having come to art via the study of titans like Velasquez and Rembrandt, Manet and Cezanne, Matisse and Picasso, I also fret over news about the death of the author, for I have not the arrogance to assume the author’s stead. I fret further about the claim that artworks need only be interesting when experience tells me they can be, even urge to be, meaningful. Art as entertainment likewise makes me fret, so I reach for the remote. In the grip of our media culture, even the democratization of taste occasionally makes me fret about our being marketed ever more products in the name of cultural pleasures and excitements and thereby pitted against one another in competition for more artistic toys--and becoming in the process more divided from one another, more alone. And naturally I fret about the democratization of the art market, about large sums of money being equated with artistic quality or entitling museum trustees to dictate what their museums collect and exhibit.

But in closing, let me assure you that I’ve made my peace with the market: I have at home a Campbell’s soup can, chicken noodle, signed with my name by Andy Warhol and given to me by a friend in 1966. When I saw a similar can in an auction catalog 25 years later with a $2500 to $3000 estimate, I felt the ultimate excitement, the excitement of cashing in. Hastening to the kitchen, to the shelf where the soup can had sat all those years, to check my modest treasure, I was stunned to realize how shabby it had become, how faded, Andy’s signature barely visible under a film of grease. I knew for sure it was worthless, and my heart ached. How could I have let that happen? How could I have exposed the can to the risks of everyday experience? How could I have just lived with it? Then the lightbulb went on: Worthless on the market, the can was still filled with memories--and they were still worth plenty.    

Carl Belz is Director Emeritus of the Rose Art Museum, Brandeis University.

Art News

By Charles Kessler

Piero della Francesca paintings are coming to the Frick.

According to a report in the New York Times, from February 12th through May 19th, The Frick Collection will be exhibiting seven works by this great 15th century Italian artist. It will be the first exhibition in the United States devoted to Piero. 

Out-of-towners —plan your visit to New York accordingly!

Piero della Francesca, Virgin and Child Enthroned with Four Angels, c. 1460-70, Oil possibly with some tempera on panel, transferred to fabric on panel, 107.8 x 78.4 cm (The Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute).

Two interviews and a profile:

An entertaining interview with Los Angeles Times art critic Christopher Knight.

 I go to a show, and I see a bunch of stuff, and I have some thoughts, and I get confused, and I don’t know what that is, and I take a bunch of notes. It’s a way of processing it for myself. Then I sit down and start to write about it to figure what it is I think. And that’s when it happens. It doesn’t really happen in front of the work. It happens when I’m writing.

And a reverential interview with intelligent answers from the mononymous Hudson, the director of Feature, Inc., one of the oldest and best galleries in the Lower East Side.

Hudson at work

And this long-overdue profile: The Man Behind the CalArts Mafia: A Portrait of Jack Goldstein, 10 years after his suicide.

Jack Goldstein, White Dove, 1975, a still from a 20-second 16mm film with sound.

An enormous geometric mosaic was recently discovered in Antoichia ad Cragum, an ancient city along the southern Turkey coast. Not only is the mosaic of significant artistic value in itself, but it's also evidence of the great reach of the Roman Empire. Check here for more photos. 

Poolside Roman mosaic, probably third or fourth century, 1600 square feet (Photo: University of Nebraska, Lincoln).

It Is Broke, We Should Probably Fix It: The Nonprofit Model and the Arts by Alexis Clements

Clements makes the case that non-profits, because of their tax-free status, use money that would have been public money but that becomes privately controlled, usually by white, very rich men. Wealthy individuals can thereby fund organizations that promote their personal beliefs rather than letting the public, through their representatives, decide how the money should be spent. 

In addition, he poses these provocative questions:

Why does the nonprofit structure have to mimic corporate structure? Could you work within that structure to place artists and community members on the board and in leadership roles? Are you working to preserve a salary or to pursue a mission? And are your goals served by having to maintain a staff, be subject to the demands of funders, and adopting someone else’s leadership model? 

Two Chelsea exhibitions:

Jackson Pollock & Tony Smith: Sculpture. An Exhibition on the Centennial of their Births, Matthew Marks Gallery, 502 West 22 Street (until October 27th). 

Jackson Pollock, untitled, 1956, plaster, sand, gauze and wire, 9 x 12 x 5 inches (Photo: Matthew Marks Gallery).

This extraordinary exhibition consists of two practically unknown sculptures by Jackson Pollock, made just weeks before he was killed in an auto accident on August 11th. They were created in the backyard of Tony Smith's house on the same weekend as Smith made his very first sculpture (cast from an egg crate — see below), which is also in the exhibition along with two other sculptures Smith made that year. 

Tony Smith, Untitled, 1956, concrete 3 ¾ x 8 ⅜ x 6 ⅝ inches (Photo: Matthew Marks Gallery).

An enormous Tony Smith sculpture on display further down on 22nd Street, in Matthew Mark's large space (until October 27th), took my breath away. Smith came a long way in a decade.

Tony Smith, Source, 1967, painted steel, 132 x 354 x 408 inches.

More New York 1970s - 1980s. 

The New Museum has two panel discussions coming up about this period:
Graffiti/Post Graffiti screening and panel discussion, Thursday, October 4th at 7 pm ($8, free for members). They will be screening Paul Tschinkel’s Graffiti/Post Graffiti (1984, 28 min), a documentary that includes interviews with artists Jean-Michel Basquiat, Rammellzee, and Lady Pink, and gallery dealers Patti Astor and Tony Shafrazi. Participants on the panel will be Patti Astor, Fab 5 Freddy, Marc H. Miller, and Paul Tschinkel.

Alternatives in Retrospect: Artist-run Spaces in the 1970s and 1980s, Friday, October 5th, 7 pm (free).
This panel is about the development of alternative spaces in New York and how they were critical for presenting young artists and new ideas. Participants will be Stefan Eins, Coleen Fitzgibbon, Becky Howland and Joe Lewis. It will be moderated by Walter Robinson.

Finally, there's the heart-rending film How to Survive a Plague, a documentary about the efforts of a group of young people with no scientific training who fought for the development of promising new drugs to fight AIDS and pushed to move them quickly through experimental trials, thereby saving the lives of thousands during the worst of the AIDS epidemic. 

Still from the documentary, How to Survive a Plague.

Flash Mob Dance

Nimbus Dance Works, Jersey City

All About Downtown Street Fair in Jersey City

What I loved most about this street fair is everything was local.

There's Somethin' Happening Here

There are THREE exhibitions of 1980's East Village art in New York now. While I'm delighted to see this work is at last getting some attention, not one of these exhibitions is comprehensive enough to give a feeling for what the art scene was like then.

Installation view of the New Museum's exhibition Come Closer (Photo: Katherine Jánszky Michaelsen). On the left is Paul Tschinkel's video Haircut, 1975 (a topless Hannah Wilke giving Claus Oldenburg a haircut); and on the right is part of  Curt Hoppe's painting Bettie and the Ramones, 1978 (done in conjunction with Marc Miller and Bettie Ringma's conceptual photography project "Paparazzi Self-Portraits" and signed by the Ramones). 

The New Museum has devoted their small fifth-floor space to Come Closer: Art Around the Bowery, 1969 - 1989.  In some ways, the small crowded space is a good thing because it helps reinforce the casual, raw quality of the work and captures a little of the spirit of those times. It would be even better if they packed in more art — or better yet, crammed the entire museum full with this work, but unfortunately the New Museum has become too conservative for that.

The exhibition draws heavily on my friend Marc Miller's archive and his comprehensive website 98Bowery.com. If you want to learn about this period, you're better off going to Miller's website because not only is the amount of work in the exhibition insufficient, but the labeling and documentation are atrocious. Nevertheless, it is definitely worth spending time with this show since in a small way it does capture what the scene was like then. (If you want to see more photos of the show —The New Museum's site has only three — check out Tim Schreier's post here.

Door to Keith Haring's apartment (Photo: Tim Schreier)

The most ambitious exhibition of the three (and it's not very) is Times Square Show Revisited at the Hunter College art gallery (68th Street — enter through the lobby on Lexington). It pulls together a small fraction of the art originally shown in the historic Times Square Show organized by Colab in June of 1980 in a run-down four-story building at 41st and Seventh Avenue.  The original show was a free-wheeling, not to say chaotic, installation of the art of more than 100 artists, and it included painting, sculpture, music, performances, film and fashion. The current show is sedate and tiny in comparison; and doesn't come close to capturing what the original was like. (A recent show that came closer to evoking that spirit, although with current art, was This Side of Paradise, a huge exhibition at the Andrew Freeman Home in the Bronx that took place last April. I wrote about it here.)

Installation view, Times Square Show Revisited

It was almost impossible to identify the individual works in the Hunter College show from the check list provided, but the explanatory wall texts were informative and the exhibition's website is excellent.

Crossing Houston, the third exhibition, is getting very little attention, and that's a mystery to me because it has works from the mid-1980's by such well-known East Village artists as Keith Haring, David Wonjnarowicz, John Ahearn, Rodney Alan Greenblat, Jane Dickson and many others. It was organized by Hal Bromm, Paul Bridgewater, and Gracie Mansion, who herself was one of the major figures of this period. The show, appropriately enough, is in the Lower East Side, in the former New York Studio Gallery, 154 Stanton Street at Suffolk.

The New Museum, or better still the Whitney, should do a major exhibition of East Village art. It's overdue.

Inspiration in Downtown Jersey City

Reverend Billy & The Church of Stop Shopping Choir lifting spirits at a benefit for No Gas Pipeline last night in Grace Church.

City/Drift -- Bushwick

By Charles Kessler

I spent most of Friday, Saturday and Sunday in Bushwick attending (and participating in -- it was that kind of event) Citydrift, an exhuberant, chaotic, playful, all-embracing art-community undertaking. Among other things, it included night-time scavenger hunts for art, artifacts and about 100 mini-tequila bottles; an art time-capsule (the art was documented and placed in a dumpster, and the whole thing eventually will be buried somewhere); a large golem erected at Momenta Art, brought at night to the nearby Brooklyn Fire Proof cafe/bar/gallery where later that night, with supreme irony, some drunks set it on fire; Lisa Levy's Ego Evaluations (her diagnosis was that I have an inflated view of myself - oy); 4-person ping pong (played crosswise); Barry Duncan palindromes; and many panel discussions. And these are just the events I remember or heard about -- I'm sure I missed a lot. 

I still don't know WTF is was all about. Here's an inscrutable explanation from their website:

Citydrift is a replicable meta-event qua group installation/art discourse composed loosely in different measures on Guy Debord’s Situationist concept of the derive or drift, Jan Hoet’s 1986 project in Ghent, Chambres D’Amis, and Colin DeLand’s playful reconfiguration of art fair paradigms with his “Gramercy Hotel” model.

See what I mean?? But it didn't matter. Everyone just went with it in their own way, which was fitting, and some interesting art, performances, insights and a lot of great schmoozing came out of it. 

Peter Hopkins, the director of the Bogart Salon gallery, was the "Creator/Director" of the event, and the inexhaustible (and exhausting) driving force. He was greatly aided by the herculean efforts of Meenakshi Thirukode ("Queen Bee") and the interns Maya Meissner and Wilson Duggan. 

Peter is an important artist in his own right, and this event could be seen as his mad art. He enlisted several Bushwick galleries and what I'd guess was a hundred people, mostly artists, but also art writers, independent curators, and even two long-time East Village and now Chelsea dealers: Magdalena Sawon of Postmasters Gallery, and Wendy Olsoff, of the P.P.O.W. Gallery.

The primary activity was “drifts.” On Friday night, groups of people (ten groups by my count -- you can find some information on them here), led by an artist or artists, drifted around Bushwick with some general aim in mind, but open to other things too. The idea was to go with the flow. Saturday the groups met back at Momenta Art or the Bogart Salon, reported on their drifts, and often made some art derived from it. 

Perhaps the best way to capture what took place is to describe one of the drifts. 

Christopher Williams recording sounds in his drift area (Photo: Jason Das).

Working with the Hart Island Project (collaborations were the norm), Chris Williams and Jason Das of the Glass Bees art project and their group explored places in Bushwick where people died who were buried in Hart Island, New York’s enormous potter’s field. They took photos, made sound samples, did drawings, and picked up stuff from the locations. On Saturday and Sunday, Williams and Das created a performance and installation from the drift (see photos below). 

Jason Das and Christopher Williams in the Bogart Salon working on their Citydrift installation.

In addition to all this, on Saturday and Sunday there were four panel discussions mainly about the Bushwick art scene, including one about blogging that I participated in. Unfortunately these panels weren't well attended -- I suspect because people were pretty burned out by then, plus it was difficult to figure out what was happening when. And there were a lot of competing activities.

Citydrift panel discussion called Curators in Bushwick: citydrift and The New Model. From L to R: Wilson Duggan, Angela Washko, Meenakshi Thirukode, Melinda Hunt, Stefan Eins and Bonnie Rychlak. You can read their bios here.

The Go Brooklyn studio tour was happening, and several galleries had openings including Centotto, Slag, Theodore Art, Brooklyn Fire Proof, Luring Augustine, the new galleries Ethan Pettit and Robert Henry; and Interstate Projects opened a new big gorgeous space at 66 Knickerbocker with what I believe is one of the best exhibitions in New York now. Here are some photos:

Interstate Projects, view from their courtyard (where they expect to show sculptures and have music and performances).

The artist Cheon Pyo Lee working on his sculpture in Interstate Project's basement gallery space.

Installation View, Cheon Pyo Lee's exhibition, Medium is the Same.

And wait -- there's more! Sunday the Bushwick Starr presented COVERS by Katy Pyle which I saw and loved. 

All and all, a pretty full weekend -- even for Bushwick. 

Jersey City Street Art

An anonymous artist has been beautifying Monmouth Street in and around Fourth and Fifth streets in Downtown Jersey City. I suspect it's the same person who festooned the utility poles around Astor Place with plastic ties. Write in if you know who it is.

While taking these photos, I happened upon two of the three gorgeous sisters who call themselves the Big Hair Girls. They're local dog walkers and singers in a band appropriately enough called the Big Hair Girls. What better street art could there be?

Art News, August 20, 2012

By Charles Kessler

Los Angeles:

Hyperallergic just published this map by artist Zach Alan. It superimposes a map of Manhattan (the little red rectangle is Chelsea) over a map of Los Angeles with art venues flagged. The map graphically illustrates how spread out LA art spaces are. I’ll be in LA next week and will be experiencing this art sprawl myself.

Margo Leavin in her Robertson Boulevard gallery, 1996  (Edward Ornelas / Los Angeles Times / August 14, 2012)

The Los Angeles Times reports the Margo Leavin Gallery will be closing after 42 years. To her credit, Leavin started the gallery with very little capital and built it up to be one of the most important galleries in Los Angeles. I have fond memories of Margo Leavin; she's a smart and cultured person who always did her homework --  I'd often see her at exhibitions not only in Los Angeles but also New York. 

Jersey City: 

New street art on Monmouth between 4th and 5th streets.

What I particularly like about this work, aside from the whimsey, is that there are many such works on both sides of the street, so it's like an installation or environment. 

There are two new shows:

Tabula Rasa, curated by Aimée Burg (until September 16^th), 

Curious Matter gallery, 272 Fifth Street in Downtown Jersey City.

Open Sundays noon to 3pm and by appointment.

This is a jewel of a show installed in an appropriately small and intimate space -- the front parlor of an historic row house. From the catalog:

TABULA RASA is a group show of work discussing/showing the idea of the table and the discourses we have with this object and space. It is not only a matter of what a table is but also what takes place at or on a table. Our language appreciates the literal and metaphorical potential of this everyday object: when we are open to possibilities, we say All ideas are on the table. These interactions–from a romantic dinner for two to a large board meeting–span every class and social space. This show’s focus on the table examines these crucial instants and decisions.

Steven Paneccasio, Tablecloth, March, 2012, photogarph, 17 ½ x 22 inches.

And opening Saturday, August 25^th 7 - 9 PM is: Shimeon Nandlal 2012

Art House Productions
One McWilliams Place (the old St. Francis Building, SE corner of Hamilton Park) 
The press release describes the show as "Self-motivated drawing, poetry, music, theater and dance by self-taught artists." It includes work by Buckle, Boss Jones, Chris G., and Haruko Glory. Should be interesting.

Other art news: 

GalleristNY reports the Canada Gallery will be moving to a larger (and more accessible) space on the Lower East Side — 333 Broome Street (between Chrystie and Bowery). They will be sharing the space with a new branch of the Marlborough Gallery — yet another big-time gallery that wants a LES venue.   

62 East 4th Street, the newly restored home of Duo Center and the Rod Rodgers Dance Company.

I just went on a tour of the East Fourth Street Cultural District organized by FAB (Fourth Arts Block). I’ve been going to La MaMa and The New York Theatre Workshop for years but I never knew there were TWELVE other performing arts venues in that one block between Second and Bowery. And what a history! You can read about some of it here, but take a tour if you can. 

Interior, 62 East 4th Street. Among other things, the opera scene from Godfathers II was shot here, and Andy Warhol used it to show gay porn films. 

And finally, Alastair Macaulay, the respected dance critic of the New York Times, just wrote a thoughtful article about nakedness in current dance that I think applies equally to the visual arts.