Giants, Nature, Back Spasms
If you're in New York, you need to head to the Brooklyn Museum of Art, which has some amazing exhibits running, including Ron Mueck, Walton Ford, and Annie Leibovitz.
It was the Mueck that drew me to the museum. Sarah and I rode our bikes over after we'd both finished our morning writing. The Mueck stuff is amazing. He's an ex-Jim Henson creature builder who makes incredibly realistic naked people, at curious scale. They wouldn't let me take any pictures, but I stole this from somebody else' blog:
The woman looks completely realistic, at the closest inspection, no matter the fact that she would stand sixty feet tall. You can see the veins under her wrists where the skin is thin. The most curious thing about the exhibit for me was how it made me reconsider how realistic my fellow art patrons were. I ended up scrutinizing them for faults in design. I'd say a little more than half of my fellow Brooklynites are not such convincing constructions.
Also, Walton Ford! He does Albertus Seba-style drawings of animals in "nature." They make me deeply uncomfortable in the way only really good art does. Look at this picture of birds in a flock acting as one creature. Good inspiration for "Acorn: Giant Killer."
But about halfway through the Ford exhibit, I somehow turned funny and threw out my back. It felt like somebody had pushed a knitting needle into my left lung. I was left lurching around, desperately trying to find a bench I could lie on. I was in no shape to ride my bicycle back home, and needed at least half an hour face down on a flat surface. But everywhere I went, guards would prod me and tell me I would have to sit upright or they would call security.
I did eventually figure it out, and went back upstairs to the Mueck exhibit, took off all of my clothes, and lay face-down in the corner of the room. Except for the occasional irritating comment (such as "a little excessive with the hair" or "he made some very curious decisions with scale in this one") it turned out pretty well. I'm back home safe, sitting on what I dearly hope is a hot water bottle.
It was the Mueck that drew me to the museum. Sarah and I rode our bikes over after we'd both finished our morning writing. The Mueck stuff is amazing. He's an ex-Jim Henson creature builder who makes incredibly realistic naked people, at curious scale. They wouldn't let me take any pictures, but I stole this from somebody else' blog:
The woman looks completely realistic, at the closest inspection, no matter the fact that she would stand sixty feet tall. You can see the veins under her wrists where the skin is thin. The most curious thing about the exhibit for me was how it made me reconsider how realistic my fellow art patrons were. I ended up scrutinizing them for faults in design. I'd say a little more than half of my fellow Brooklynites are not such convincing constructions.
Also, Walton Ford! He does Albertus Seba-style drawings of animals in "nature." They make me deeply uncomfortable in the way only really good art does. Look at this picture of birds in a flock acting as one creature. Good inspiration for "Acorn: Giant Killer."
But about halfway through the Ford exhibit, I somehow turned funny and threw out my back. It felt like somebody had pushed a knitting needle into my left lung. I was left lurching around, desperately trying to find a bench I could lie on. I was in no shape to ride my bicycle back home, and needed at least half an hour face down on a flat surface. But everywhere I went, guards would prod me and tell me I would have to sit upright or they would call security. I did eventually figure it out, and went back upstairs to the Mueck exhibit, took off all of my clothes, and lay face-down in the corner of the room. Except for the occasional irritating comment (such as "a little excessive with the hair" or "he made some very curious decisions with scale in this one") it turned out pretty well. I'm back home safe, sitting on what I dearly hope is a hot water bottle.
