Sway Your Hair & Twirl

Since I am on the topic of art, I need to digress into one of my absolute favorite art forms: Music. Every since I was little and Reading Rainbow guitar sessions entered my world, I was hooked. I have to give a lot of credit to my Dad who loved his records more than anything - some dads have their lawn, some have their golf, mine had records and "Parkersonic" mixtapes. Saturday afternoons, especially during the frigid Massachusetts winters, he would put on his old records and my brother and I would dance around - but absolutely NO jumping (causing the record to skip). Even then I was a little trouble maker and would attempt a quiet jump without getting caught, stealing a glance at the record player, tempting it to try and skip.

As I got older and really began to have my own taste in music that, let's be honest, Top 40 hits became my world (I love you Brit Brit!!) but I also kept my ears in my dad's music world that contained gems such as Morcheeba and the Fun Loving Criminals (if you have never heard of them, GROOVESHARK and enjoy). There is nothing like a great song, the kind that sings to your soul and lifts your spirits - a kind of high that only a song can produce. Recently I have been hooked to "Skeleton Key" by Margot and the Nuclear So-and-So's (what a name) and really anything by Portugal.The Man. I finally saw Portugal in concert a few weeks ago at Webster hall and let me just say, it was soulful and euphoric; I fell in love. Again.

And then there was Governor's Ball. An island right off the tip of Manhattan, a 7 minute ferry ride away, Governor's Island is a bit of a ghost town. Still not sure what actually goes on out there....but on June 18, all the Brooklyn Hipsters and City Yuppies made their way in troves, drunk, stumbling, high, and rolling to engage in most of the most basic human activities: listening to music. It was beautiful. Honestly, out of all the negativity, depression, failings, and slumps going on in the world right now, it was absolutely heavenly to be there, sharing the experience. I won't get all hippy-dippy on you, but next time you're feeling blue, go see a concert. Let the music move you. And be free.

The Economy is Failing, The Art Market is Rising

Despite the floundering economy, the unemployment rate's continuous rise, and lack of leadership from DC on how to get out of this deep, dark 2012-is-almost-upon-us hole, it's refreshing to know that money is still being spent on important things: Art. Both Sotheby's and Christie's recent auctions raked in millions for the usual bread-and-butter artists including Picasso, Cezanne, and of course, Warhol. While the two auctions houses report record sales during their Post-Impressionist and Modernism auctions recently, it's sad to watch Museums and galleries floundering for funds. As member of the MoMA, I know it isn't cheap, but it's the least I can do to keep New York's art scene thriving. I think there is a direct correlation between the price of art rising (and being bought by eager bidders) and the diversity of creativity in the art world. Like many, I long for the golden ages of art movements such as Impressionism and Cubism and the Renaissance. Many art critics, such as those who attended the latest Art Basil show in Miami, felt the art work was lacking a sense of originality. As if each work was built out of a kernel of nostalgia for an artist's work. Sounds a bit Inception-y to me, but I believe it's true. Although I am not a huge fan of modern art, I think it's refreshing to be confronted with something unique and different. Which is why I must recommend "Francis Alÿs: A Story of Deception" at the MoMA. His unique sense of perception is quite uncanny - watching him kick around a large block of ice on the streets of Mexico until it melts into a puddle...well, it's almost frustrating. As in, what's the point? As you move through the exhibit, viewing similar projects, you suddenly hear this massive WHOOSH. And that's when you find Francis video taping himself running into mini tornadoes in the desert. And that's about the time I started to enjoy his odd sense of art. Then again, if you prefer the old art, scoot right out and fall into the vibrant and depressing German Expressionism show.