This was my third trip to New York since the MoMA launched the Abstract Expressionists New York exhibit. I had run out of time on my previous two trips, but was able to get there this time. (And, horribly, it has closed so I feel terrible about going on and on. But I’m going to anyway.)
I dig ’em. The Abstract Expressionists, I mean.
Big and graphic and bold, they jazz me right up. It was terrific to see all of these paintings together. I forget, so accustomed to their images, so familiar with their forms, how shockingly foreign they were at their debut. Forget that contemporary eyes might have gazed upon them and thought, “What the heck?” Puzzled, as Bert Cooper’s employees were with his Rothko.
Willem de Kooning Woman 1. Really, we’re not all that bad.
I was there Good Friday and the museum was packed. A swarming museum is an idea that delights, but a reality that detracts. There were people moving everywhere, looking and talking and listening to audio tours. But people were visiting Pollack like a rock star.