TROPOLISM

When we aren't meditating in front of the Atlantic Ocean at our Fire Island house on the weekends, we like to stay in our little borough to see some art.

This weekend's offerings have some relevance here.

1. The Met has a gorgeous rooftop installation by Sol LeWitt. Artnet wrote an interesting little piece on it. (Thanks, Zach).

2. MOMA has two shows, one recently opened, one closing. Opened: the High Line proposal. I have much to say about the High Line, but we'll save that for another post, after I've seen the proposal. Last weekend for: Groundswell, a rare showing of landscape architecture that is on the cutting edge.

After that, it's back to island living on the weekends. The art can come to me.

We here at Second Nature got the early jump on the official website for the winner of the National AIDS Memorial Competition in San Francisco. It's always heartening to see young designers being chosen for this kind of thing. Their simple, clear, and informative website (wow, when was the last time an architectural website fit that description?) is now live.

I had a studio critic, many years ago, who always said that he preferred to come in second in competitions. First place meant a long struggle to get the project built. I've met Janette, and I'm sure she's up to the job.

The Times reports that the Dia Center is going to move into The High Line. It solves the problem of one end of the High Line: it gives the tracks an end, and a reason to go to that end.

You'll note that your editor's own contribution to this design process was also concerned about the ends. Either hyper-programmed (as in Dia) or hyper-landscape (like an artificial hill) were my thoughts. It's always a pleasure being right. Or Theoretically Right. Or Whatever.

Of course, there's a stadium dragging down the other end. So art addicts and West Villagers get on at Gansvoort, and by the time they're up to 33rd street, they're outraged. Not sure how this is supposed to look.

This just in: an inspirational image Thomas Krens has on his office wall, as The Guggenheim continues its global expansion. Title: Think Big!!

Branding museums and building them all over the world creates a global institution, space, and collection. What I am tracking in this story is how works in the collection, and exhibitions mounted, are affected by the need to support them. In short, the need to bring in huge worldwide crowds affects what's in the museums. Whatever the outcome, The Guggenheim will have a global infrastructure in place, and some new stuff will come out of it. I applaud Mr. Krens for having a big, unique vision.

But the drama getting there: yawn.

A week after coming back from Japan, I was invited by a friend to visit MOMA. It was the Wednesday of the week of opening parties, invitation only. I strode onto 53rd Street it as if I knew where I was going. Once I turned the corner, and approached the building, I realized that I did not know where the entrance was. The entire block had been transformed. Even the original Durrell Stone building had been transformed: it was glowing with its original translucent facade. Everywhere on the block were black cars, women in furs, men in furs, and security guards directing people to their respective lines. It was a big, New York block party.

There were people on the street. Some had tickets. Some were watching. Some did not need tickets. Some were protesting the cost of admission. Everyone wanted in. I did not have a ticket, but Greg did. We didn't need them: we were let in by some friends of some friends. A Rockefeller. The entry cuts through the block, traversing 53rd street to 54th street. One turns off this axis to enter the museum, views the sculpture garden, and then ascends the stair. In short, the sculpture garden has become linked to the public space of the city.

There is always someone in the world who knows the location of the place you're seeking. (I remind you that "place" includes state-of-being.) You may not be close to these people at all. Yet if you find them, an incredibly intimate thing happens when they point you in the direction you wanted. In a way, they show you the future you asked for. It is a succinct demonstration of the situational power people have in each other's lives.